


Once Upon an Eighth Year

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Hidden Feelings [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confused Harry, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry, Probably a little crack, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Slow Build, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: When Harry goes back to Hogwarts for a so-called Eighth Year, he's told by McGonagall that he has to share a room with Draco and that they had better both behave or else they'd *both* be expelled. Rather than grumble, both try to make the best of the situation with Draco providing (non-sexual) comfort each night when Harry has nightmares. Slowly, Harry grows ever more confused about the gorgeous Slytherin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is finished and was written as two distinct parts that I have decided to break down. This first part will have two chapters, and the second part will have three chapters.

“I trust there won't be any trouble from you two?” McGonagall asked sternly.

“That is an impossible promise to make since Potter attracts trouble like he was born cursed to be a compulsive troublemaker,” Draco drawled snidely.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Er... he's not wrong...”

McGonagall sighed in frustration. “I _meant_ that I expect the _two of you_ to make an effort to _not fight_.”

Harry bit his lip in thought. “And that's why you are making us share a room this year?”

McGonagall was tempted to tear out her own hair, but resisted the urge. “Listen, as two of what we are calling Eighth Years, you'll both have a lot more freedom than the other students. You're both of age and may go to Hogsmeade whenever you like, stay out on weekends, that sort of thing. But you _also_ have a greater responsibility to the other students in that I need every Eighth Year student to _show_ the younger students that now that the war is over, we need to _all_ try to get along. House Unity!”

She took a breath, then sighed. “Harry... I have reason to fear that you are actually the only person in this school that _could_ share a room with Draco Malfoy and _not_ try to kill him.”

Draco scoffed derisively. “Of course he wouldn't _try,_ he'd simply do it and call it an accident and everyone would believe him!”

“I would not!” Harry blurted out defensively. “I _never_ want to be responsible for someone's death again!”

“Some Auror you'll make,” Draco muttered in a clearly condescending tone of voice.

McGonagall sighed and rubbed her forehead. All signs pointed to the fact that her headache was going to get much worse before she had a chance to take a potion for it. “Let me give the two of you a piece of advice that you should have learned around the age of five: if you can't say anything nice to each other, then don't say anything at all. Now kindly remove yourselves from my office and don't do anything I will have to expel you for – because I am going to consider you _both_ at fault if _either_ of you does _anything_!”

Harry and Draco both grumbled petulantly but didn't say anything. McGonagall pointed toward her door, making both boys sigh before trudging away. The moment they were gone, she summoned a headache relieving potion and downed it.

“Those two are going to be the death of me if they don't kill each other first.”

 

***

 

Harry and Draco entered their shared room. Since they had been asked to go to McGonagall's office directly after the Welcoming Feast, everyone else had already gone to their rooms to unpack. Thus, the Eighth Year Common Room was empty and they didn't meet anyone along the way.

In their new room, Harry and Draco gave each other a wary look. Elves had delivered their belongings, but hadn't unpacked anything because they didn't know which side of the room each boy planned to claim. The nice thing was that this room was the same size as their previous boys' dorms were, which meant that they were now sharing the same amount of space that was normally divided in five.

“Right,” Draco stated decisively. “So we'll do it this way: Since the door to the room is on this side and the loo is on the other, we'll draw an imaginary line down the center. I'll have this half, you'll have that half, and we'll never have a reason to step a foot into each other's space. Do people _really_ get told not to say anything if they don't have anything nice to say?”

Harry was looking at the imaginary line that Draco had drawn, nodding slowly in agreement. He saw no reason to argue with the division of their space. “Er... yeah. Your parents never told you that?”

Draco scoffed. “If they _had_ , chances are that I would never have been able to talk at all!”

Harry chuckled softly at that. “My aunt and uncle simply told me the second half of that: _don't say anything at all_. That reminds me...”

Harry levitated his trunk to where he wanted it, and then opened it. He pulled a jar of floo powder out and set it on the table next to his bed. One of the things they were allowed to do as Eighth Years was floo in and out of the castle during their off times, so Harry grabbed a pinch and tossed it into the fireplace that was next to the door to the loo, so technically on Harry's side of the room.

“Dudley's flat!”

A moment later, Dudley was staring at Harry with a frown. “Why is your head in a fire?”

Harry chuckled. “Magic. You asked me to let you know when I got to Hogwarts, so I am.”

“Oh... I expected a letter from your owl,” Dudley said.

“I told you, Hedwig died,” Harry murmured sadly.

“Oh. Right. I forgot,” Dudley murmured.

“Anyway, good luck tomorrow. I imagine that police officer training won't be easy,” Harry repeated, since he'd said that before.

“Thanks, and er, you too, with learning spells and whatnot,” Dudley replied with a shrug.

“Night Dudley,” Harry wished, barely waiting for the return sentiment before pulling his head out of the fireplace. Then he sighed. “Still awkward.”

Draco was frankly dying of curiosity. “Is that an ex that you're trying to remain friends with?”

Harry snorted in amusement. “Dudley? An ex? Hardly. He's my cousin, and I'm not trying to remain friends with him so much as figure out how in the bloody hell to _become_ friends with him after... everything... Anyway, I'm tired. Do you want to take a shower first or should I? And actually, I can just go use the Prefects' bathroom if you –”

Draco held up a hand to cut Harry short. “Stop. You can shower first since it will probably take me far longer and I want to unpack a bit more first anyway.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed as he promptly dug in his trunk for his favorite thing to sleep in – a pair of pants Hermione'd given him that were black with a jarring pattern of tilted blue police call boxes on them. Harry and Hermione had quickly become big fans of Doctor Who once Harry had a little time to catch up on the program, so Hermione figured that Harry would like pants featuring the Tardis, and he did.

Harry had never really taken more than 10 minutes to shower – 15 if he was wanking – so he didn't feel the need to hurry or anything. When he was done, he dried off with a combination of towels and spells, leaving his dirty clothes in the basket so the house elves would wash them. Thus, he exited the bathroom wearing only his pants. It didn't occur to him that Slytherin boys might be different than Gryffindor ones – who all wore just their pants to bed – except Neville.

Draco quickly looked away to hide his interest – until Harry's back was turned. Then Draco scrutinized that firm arse and those muscular legs. Not to mention scrawny body that was just beginning to fill out from having a few solid meals after nearly a year on the run from Voldemort.

Picking up a large basket, Draco walked to the bathroom as Harry slid into bed. As mentioned, he took a long time in the bathroom because his routine took nearly two hours, but maintaining perfect skin was not as easy as it looked. When he was done, he went to bed, relieved that Harry was already snoring softly.

Unlike Harry, Draco had a hard time falling to sleep. He was afraid that he'd suffer from nightmares – well no. He _knew_ he'd suffer from nightmares. What he was actually afraid of was that Harry would _hear_ him suffering from them, and then make fun of him for it.

He had no idea how long passed, but it had to be close to midnight when a sound caught Draco's attention. It was a distinct whimper. Followed by another and some thrashing. Unbelievably, it sounded like Harry was suffering from a nightmare.

“No! Not the spider! Ron, no!”

With a sigh, Draco decided that neither of them would get a decent night's sleep unless he did something to calm Harry down. So, he slipped out of his bed and into Harry's. Gently, he stroked Harry's hair. It was thick and coarse; each hair feeling a little wiry and crinkled. No wonder his hair never lay flat!

Slowly, still thrashing a little, Harry did actually calm down. Without warning, Harry rolled over and seized Draco, much like a child grabbing hold of a beloved teddy bear. Draco struggled a little, but Harry seemed determined to hold onto him, so Draco decided that it was in his best interest to simply relax and wait for Harry to turn in his sleep again – or at least loosen up enough for Draco to pull free.

Sighing in mild frustration, Draco wiggled until he was as comfortable as he could get, and then... fell asleep. It was the _last_ thing he would have expected, but something about the comforting sound of someone else's breathing lulled him to sleep. Not to mention the feeling of being held – it felt a lot like safety.

In the morning, Draco was shocked to discover that he hadn't had a single nightmare! Thus, despite falling asleep fairly late, he had actually gotten more sleep than he could remember getting in a long time – without the use of Dreamless Sleep anyway. He blushed and was _extremely_ glad that his face was hidden because he was laying in almost the exact same position he had been when Harry grabbed him: on his side facing Harry. Only now, they were holding onto each other while very intimately entwined and Draco's forehead was resting on Harry's chest. There was almost certainly _no way_ that Draco would be able to get free of this situation without waking Harry up!

Which was too late anyway. Harry shifted his head to look around the room, and at Draco specifically for a long moment. At first, he really thought that he was just dreaming – that returning to Hogwarts and being expected to share a room with Draco Malfoy had been a dream. True, his dreams normally started pleasantly enough and turned to nightmares, and this one seemed to be the opposite, but how else could he explain the vague memory of Draco petting his hair and then... this. The two of them sleeping together while snuggled up like lovers.

Deciding that it was too confusing to think about, much less _talk_ about, Harry simply pulled his arm out from under Draco's neck, and then gently pushed Draco away while simultaneously pulling free of the gorgeous blond. To his relief, Draco rolled away easily. His eyes were closed, but he had a light tinge of pink on his cheeks that made Harry wonder if he was blushing.

Still without a word, Harry rolled out of bed and barely remembered to cover a yawn with one hand as he walked to the bathroom. His other hand scratched his head that was itchy and still lightly sweaty from sleeping. He very firmly told himself that he was hard because he was a boy and waking up hard was just the way things worked – although, he suspected that having an attractive bed partner might have encouraged the situation. Harry firmly told himself that _that_ _particular_ bed partner wasn't different than anyone else would have been.

Sighing in relief, Draco decided to pretend that he had woken up the moment Harry slipped out of bed. Thus, he could avoid an awkward conversation by pretending that he didn't remember being wrapped up so loverly with Harry. Also, he could rush to get dressed and perhaps just avoid any conversation with Harry at all. He sat at his vanity and started on his morning routine.

On his return from the loo, Harry noticed that Draco looked adorable first thing in the morning, with his silk pajamas all rumpled and his hair somewhat wild. His face was still mildly pinker than usual, which frankly made Harry want to kiss him, but he pushed that urge away, certain that actually doing so would earn him a nasty hex. Interestingly enough, rather than wear Slytherin green, Draco's pajamas were a soft shade of sky blue that looked good on him – and added to the sheer adorableness that Harry was firmly ignoring.

Instead, Harry removed his pants and tossed them on his bed while he rummaged through his trunk for something to wear. He didn't notice Draco's eyes go wide, nor did he notice Draco stare at his arse in the mirror of his vanity. Honestly, Harry was so used to living in a dorm, that it didn't occur to him that maybe this wasn't what Draco was used to.

Not that Slytherins were particularly concerned with modesty, just that they had their dorm in the dungeons, which tended to be cold even on the hottest day of summer, so pajamas were nearly required just to keep from freezing. Even so, they had seen each other naked during or after showers and while playing, so Draco simply had to remind himself that Harry's arse was just that; an arse like any other. Nothing to stare at. Or drool over. Draco wiped his mouth and firmly paid attention to his reflection.

Harry pulled on a loose pair of denim trousers and a ratty old faded black tee shirt that Dudley had once given him because he'd received it for his birthday from a friend and it had the words: _Idiots say what?_ Printed on it in bold white block letters. Dudley had been confused when he opened it, asking: _What_? And Harry had snickered until Dudley growled in outrage and hurled the shirt at Harry.

Now dressed, Harry pulled on his robe and a pair of rainbow colored socks Dobby had once given him, before shoving his feet in a pair of trainers and leaving the room in search of breakfast. After he was gone, Draco slumped onto his vanity and exhaled in exhaustion. Despite the good sleep, he felt like he had expended all of his energy just _existing_ in the same room as Harry.

“At this rate, he's going to be the cause of my death before the end of the week!” Draco muttered petulantly. Taking his time, he finished his routine so that he looked perfect when he sauntered into the dining hall for breakfast.

 

***

 

Their first class was transfiguration with McGonagall. The class was made up of only Eighth Years, and there were only enough seats for each of them. This meant that each little rectangular study table for two had to be shared because the class was exactly even.

Draco – out of a sense of self preservation – had remained in the hall eating breakfast at the Slytherin table until almost everyone had already cleared out. This meant he was the last one to arrive in class, but since he was just a hair short of being late, McGonagall didn't say anything.

However, to his dismay, he discovered something vitally important – the _only_ spot left to sit in was right next to Harry. Harry himself seemed happy and relieved at this turn of events, until he also realized that it meant that Draco had to sit there. With a shrug, Harry gestured for Draco to sit. Both were well aware of McGonagall scrutinizing them as if she was analyzing every minute movement for cause to expel them. Not to mention the rest of the class had fallen silent and was now watching them as if expecting a fight to break out. With a half suppressed sigh, Draco took his seat and looked up at the Professor expectantly.

“Well then, our first lesson of the year shall be...”

And that began the pattern that lasted for most of the year – Harry and Draco sitting in silence next to each other for the classes that they both attended because no one else wanted to sit next to Draco, and most were too grateful to Harry to invade his space (although Ron and Hermione both offered to take turns sitting with Draco so Harry wouldn't have to, but he declined).

To both their surprise, sitting together was strangely peaceful. No one really bothered them, and since they didn't really talk to each other, they didn't bother one another. Thus, they managed to get along and do their work in class with a minimum of fuss. Draco had actually done most of his classes the first time, he had simply been too preoccupied helping the Carrows to put much effort into his homework, thus – considering the NEWTs had been canceled – he was back with everyone else to have a less stressful year.

That night was every bit as awkward as the first one had been. After dinner, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in the Eighth Year Common Room until the fact that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws kept staring at him made his skin crawl. He excused himself and went to his room, which Draco was already in. No one, not even Ron, had thought to ask Harry who he was sharing with yet, so everyone simply assumed that Harry had his own room. They also thought that Draco did too, since no one wanted to share with him.

When Harry entered the room, he basically ignored Draco, who was busy working on the last of his assigned homework. Harry went straight to the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of floo powder. “Dudley's flat.”

A moment later, Dudley was frowning at him. “That's really creepy.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, it is, but I suppose that it's fairly convenient when a bloke wants to chat with someone and can't use a phone like normal people.”

“You want to chat?” Dudley asked in surprise.

“I suppose I do,” Harry stated with a shrug. “You're not going to stare at me like I'm Jesus, nor are you going to nag me to do my homework, so... how was your day?”

“Rough,” Dudley grunted. “We've got to learn all these laws and rules, and also, we've got to do this thing that's like what new soldiers in the army are put through – basic training or some such. It's a lot like what I used to do for boxing in Smeltings, but much harder.”

“That actually sounds fun,” Harry murmured.

“More fun than doing spells?” Dudley asked with interest.

Harry huffed. “The thing with magic is that some things come really easy, and others are very hard. For example, I had to learn a lot of charms, curses, hexes, and even healing spells over the last couple of years. Now I can just do them instinctively. So, those classes are easy for me. On the other hand, things like making potions and transfiguration – that's turning one thing into something else – are hard. I don't really see the point in them, if I'm honest, but they're required for me to enter the Auror program.”

“What's the Auror program?” Dudley asked curiously.

“Er... it's actually a lot like what you're doing. Aurors are much like muggle police, only... detectives, I suppose. There are regular officers in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and then there are Aurors...” Harry explained.

“How come you're allowed to skip the regular officer part?” Dudley wondered.

Harry shrugged. “In this, it's a bit like when a muggle goes to medical school. He can choose if he wants to be a nurse or a doctor. I could choose to be a regular officer, but everyone I know in the DMLE is or was an Auror, so it's what I want to do.” Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “And honestly, I don't even have to finish school first. I've already got so many offers – I could literally choose to have any job I wanted and start tomorrow. If I showed up in the DMLE and asked for my own office, they'd give it to me and pair me up with their best Auror so that I learned everything I needed to know from the best. Even so, I don't think it's fair to get special treatment like that. It's not fair that I could be the right hand man to the Minister for Magic himself if I wanted. Or I could become a full partner in Gringott's – that's our bank. The man who owns the media conglomeration offered me his daughter's hand in marriage. If I did it, I'd be the richest man in the Wizarding World and the next person to own the media – which would at least give me a chance to keep them off my back and make them forget about me.”

Dudley laughed. “You should! Marry the rich bird and during the wedding, we can watch dad turn purple from outrage and envy!”

Harry laughed too. “Oh, wouldn't _that_ just make his whole year! He's spent years trying to earn enough money that he could retire and live a life of luxury, and I'd be marrying into more wealth than he'd ever see!”

“Mum might be warming up to you slightly, since you got us invited to Buckingham Palace and all,” Dudley informed him.

“I had _no idea_! [They knighted me and invited the three of you because you're muggles and it was a muggle ceremony.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8419816) I was just as shocked to see you as Vernon looked to see me!”

“I've been meaning to ask, what was it like, talking to Prince William and Prince Harry?” Dudley asked.

“They were nice. They taught me to play polo,” Harry replied with a shrug.

Before Dudley could say anything, there was a knock at his door. “Oh! I've got to go. I met a few blokes in training, and they promised to come here to study those laws. They said they'd bring a nice lager to keep us from getting parched.”

“Alright Dudley, have fun,” Harry bade with a small but genuine smile.

“You too!” Dudley returned just as Harry pulled his head out of the fire.

Harry looked up at the ceiling and made a soft sound of surprise. “Huh! That actually wasn't that awkward.”

Then he looked at his stack of books, wishing that his Professors _hadn't_ assigned so much homework on the first day. “Oi, I'm going to hate myself later, but I can't even _think_ about homework right now! Maybe a shower will help...” he muttered before stripping off and tossing his clothes at the basket. “Kreacher! I'd like hot chocolate brought to me in about ten minutes!”

“Yes, Master Harry,” Kreacher's voice replied, seemingly from nowhere.

“Made with milk please – not water!” Harry added. “Extra creamy!”

“As Master wishes,” Kreacher replied, sounding as if extra creamy hot chocolate was more repulsive than drinking mud from the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Harry scratched his bum as he walked into the bathroom. To his surprise, there was stuff everywhere. Not carelessly strung about to create a cluttered mess – the way Harry's bathroom will probably look when he's on his own someday without a house elf to pick up after him – but in a highly organized way. He raised a brow at Draco over his shoulder, but the Slytherin was practically nose to book with his homework, and even had his hands held up to the sides of his head, as if trying to block out even the slightest possibility of Harry interrupting his studying.

With a shrug, Harry took his shower, dried off, pulled on his sleeping pants, and accepted the hot chocolate from Kreacher. Harry smiled at him faintly.

“How do you like working at Hogwarts?”

“Kreacher is being kept busy enough. Barely have time to clean Master's home.”

“Oh. Er, if cleaning Grimmauld Place becomes too much for you, you can always, er, _not_ clean it,” Harry murmured.

“ _And shame the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?!_ ” Kreacher asked in a clearly scandalized tone of voice.

“Obviously not,” Harry muttered. “I'm just trying to make sure you're not overworked.”

“Do not worry, Master Harry,” Kreacher assured him. “I am working just enough. Does Master remember an elf named Winky?”

“Yeah... er... Is she in trouble again?” Harry asked in concern, remembering that Winky was addicted to Butterbeer and used to get drunk.

“No, but as Kreacher understands it, Winky was Dobby's girlfriend,” this was said with a sort of malicious glee.

“Really?” Harry asked in fascination. “I had no idea. I mean I knew that Dobby was taking care of her.”

“Kreacher hated Dobby!”

Harry sighed in frustration. “Not this again.”

Kreacher held up his hands placatingly. “ _So_ it makes Kreacher satisfied that Kreacher has stolen Dobby's girlfriend.”

“You what?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Winky is Kreacher's girlfriend now,” Kreacher announced proudly.

“Er... congratulations...?” Harry replied uncertainly.

“Rest assured that if Kreacher and Winky have children, they will belong to Master Harry, even though Winky is a free elf.”

“Wait, what?!” Harry blurted out in dismay. “That can't be right! If the mother is a free elf, then the babies should be too!”

“Master thinks Kreacher's children are not good enough to serve the House of Black?” Kreacher asked with the deepest offense.

“Ah! It's not that! Where is Hermione when I need her?”

“Master wants Kreacher to go fetch Mistress Hermione?” Kreacher asked in a subservient tone.

“No, that's alright,” Harry declined hastily. “She'd probably murder me for interrupting her studying. All I meant is that she can explain why it's not right for babies born to a free mother to be bound to servitude.”

“The children belong to the father,” Kreacher stated.

“So I'd have to free you for them to be free?” Harry asked.

“If Master Harry frees Kreacher, Kreacher will curse Master Harry so that he suffers a long and painful death.”

“You can do that?” Harry asked apprehensively.

“House elves can harm any human their Master orders them too, and if Kreacher has no Master, he can harm anyone he chooses,” Kreacher explained.

“Er...” Harry droned, fairly sure that Kreacher was right. “But then you'd go to Azkaban.”

“It would be worth it to ensure that Kreacher's children are allowed to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

Harry sighed in defeat. “So... are you actually going to have these children we're arguing about?”

“So long as Winky is not infertile,” Kreacher stated with a determined expression.

Harry handed his empty hot chocolate mug to Kreacher and climbed into bed.

“Master has not done his homework. Master should not go to bed before doing his homework. For the good of the House of Black, Kreacher should hex Master with insomnia until his homework is done.”

“Don't you dare!!!” Harry roared in alarm.

“Or what?” Kreacher asked shrewdly.

“Or I will call Hermione in here to talk to you about elf rights!” Harry threatened seriously.

Kreacher took a horrified step back. “Master _wouldn't_!”

“Try me!”

Kreacher sighed in defeat. “Pleasant dreams, Master Harry,” Kreacher grumbled in a tone that meant almost the exact opposite. “Kreacher will try to make sure that Master's breakfast is not too salty or full of worms. Which would only be what Master deserves for bringing shame to the House of Black by not studying.”

“Kreacher –”

“And Kreacher will _try_ not to let Master Harry's shower get cold after only a minute.”

“Kreacher!”

“And Kreacher will _try_ not to _forget_ to wash all of Master's clothes so that Master does not smell of Hippogriff dung at all times.”

“ARGH! FINE! I'll do my bloody homework!” Harry roared before Kreacher could promise to do anything worse.

Without a word, Kreacher carried all of Harry's books, blank parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink to Harry's bed and handed it to him. With a sigh, Harry opened his transfiguration text book and located his assigned chapter.

“Good Master,” Kreacher praised dryly. “Would you like anything else before Kreacher returns to the kitchen?”

“No, I'm good, thanks,” Harry murmured distractedly, waving Kreacher away.

“Good night Master,” Kreacher bade just before he Apparated back to the kitchen.

From his side of the room, Draco was taking deep and even breaths to stop himself from laughing at Harry. He was also tempted to say that it would have been far more effective to simply order Kreacher to leave and _not_ do anything to hinder or upset his master. Even so, he had been silently and mentally rolling from laughter for almost the entire time Kreacher had been in the room. The look on Harry's face when Kreacher had said he had a girlfriend was _priceless_!

Harry only did one essay before yawning and setting all his things aside. Stretching his arms high over his head, Harry bent side to side. Considering the fact that he'd had nightmares for years, he was still perpetually exhausted. He sincerely prayed that this year would be peaceful enough that he could catch up on his sleep. With that in mind, he curled up to his pillow and passed out.

Draco was just finishing up all of his homework, but he didn't think he'd be able to go to sleep so easily. In any case, he had to take a shower and go through his nightly routine before he could even consider getting into bed. When he was finally ready, he got comfortable in bed and...

Could not fall asleep.

For a couple of hours, he tossed and turned. He punched his pillow. He stared longingly at his dreamless sleep potion, but if he started taking the potion now when he didn't really need it, he'd be utterly addicted to it by the time the NEWTs were coming up, and then he'd have to take far more than most people needed. And after school was over, he'd have to kick the habit, going through withdrawals and worse nightmares than he normally had and... It just wasn't worth it...

Suddenly, Harry sat up and threw his bottle of ink across the room. “Hermione! Nagini is about to bite you! Use the dittany before you bleed out!”

Draco watched Harry fall back onto his bed and thrash about as if fighting off the giant snake.

“Immobulus! Bombarda! Wingardium fucking Leviosa!”

And apparently losing the battle.

With a sigh of mild aggravation, Draco slipped out of his bed and into Harry's. Once again, he gently ran his hand through Harry's hair, taking care to stay out of the way of the rather violent thrashing. Slowly, Harry calmed down, which allowed Draco to get a bit closer and more comfortable as he continued to stroke Harry's head.

Just when it seemed like Harry was calm enough to sleep again, he rolled over and latched onto Draco like an octopus grabbing onto its prey. Draco heaved another sigh, wondering if he should bother fighting Harry off. Simple wriggling in an attempt to get free proved that Harry was like a Devil's Snare when he was sleeping.

And – surprisingly – Draco found himself drifting off. It was almost as if Harry had some sort of strange magic that existed solely to put Draco to sleep. It only took maybe three more deep breaths before Draco was out.

When Draco drifted awake the next morning, it was to a rather erotic moan. He was once more so tangled up with Harry that it was hard to tell whose limbs were whose. This time, it was Harry's head buried against Draco's neck, and Harry was the one moaning. It seemed like he was having an erotic dream.

Harry squirmed, rubbing his morning erection against Draco's, which made them both inhale an incredulous gasp at how that felt. A moment later, Harry's hands caressed Draco's arse before squeezing it and pulling it closer – not that there was much space to get closer in since they were already entwined like a pretzel.

“Potter,” Draco whispered insistently. “Are you awake and doing that on purpose?”

“Hmm...?” Came a sleepy hum.

“Potter, if you don't stop, I'm going to –” he was cut short when Harry exhaled a hot breath on Draco's neck, which made Draco shiver from a powerful desire for Harry to simply bite him and leave a mark so vivid that it would be like a beacon announcing what had happened for all to see.

Harry went still. Completely still. As if frozen.

“Malfoy?”

Draco exhaled in relief. And disappointment. It was strange, but he now very much wished that Harry had waited to wake up for another minute. It wouldn't have taken long.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you, but you were having a dream that, well, er, this,” Draco tried to explain, wiggling slightly to illustrate his point.

Harry frowned in confusion. “Alright... but erm, _why_ are you in my bed in the first place? Again.

“You don't remember?” Draco wondered with a frown of his own.

“Remember what?” Harry asked curiously.

“You were having a nightmare about Nagini biting Hermione and I came over to calm you down,” Draco explained. Half of him was utterly embarrassed that he and Harry were still holding onto each other and pressed so close together that they could probably share a very narrow coffin. The other half was hoping that Harry didn't realize this and push him away anytime soon. “And – just like last night – the moment it seemed like you were sleeping normally again, you grabbed onto me and wouldn't let go.”

“Oh! Er..... yeah... that happens,” Harry admitted, since his friends had all told him about it over the summer whenever he woke up to find that one or another of them had ended up in bed with him. Once Ginny turned 17, she basically declared that she was just going to sleep with Harry to begin with so that he wouldn't have nightmares, which only slightly worked. It seemed to minimize them, but not get rid of them altogether.

Draco huffed a tiny laugh. “I think your nightmares might actually be worse than mine.”

“You have nightmares?” Harry asked with an emotion that was hard for Draco to interpret. It was a little like Harry was being sympathetic, but also like Harry was eager to hear that someone else suffered from the same affliction. Draco didn't _think_ there was anything malicious in Harry's eagerness, but why else would someone seem almost happy about something like that?

Glaring lightly, Draco decided to reply. “When I manage to get any sleep at all.”

“Ah, so you know what it's like,” Harry stated. Then he blushed. “Do you, erm... do you mind if I,” he sighed in frustration. “Look, I really have to go to the loo, and I can't get out of bed with you holding onto me like this.”

Draco pressed his chin to his chest in an attempt to hide his face – which was now an alarming shade of red. “You're the one holding onto me!”

Harry pressed his lips together to stop from laughing. “I suppose that we're holding onto each other. I need us both to stop doing that.”

“Of course,” Draco stated in a way that made the idea sound like he was the genius that had had it. “And just for the record, what you were doing just before I woke you up is the reason that I am, er... Anyway, it has nothing to do with you.”

“I understand,” Harry murmured soothingly as he released his embarrassingly tight hold on Draco and pulled free.

As much as Draco liked being able to breath freely again, he was disconcertingly melancholic about no longer being in Harry's arms. To hide this, he rolled to the other side of the bed and got up. He was able to lose himself in his morning routine before Harry emerged from the bathroom.

Harry promptly removed his sleeping pants and Draco decided to continue his routine in the bathroom before he started drooling again. No sooner had he entered the bathroom and absently tossed the door about four fifths shut than someone knocked on the door to their room.

“Are you planning to skip breakfast, Harry?” Ron asked loudly.

Draco cast a Tempus Charm to confirm that there was still plenty of time before breakfast was over, and then stood in the bathroom so that he could peek out the slightly open door without being seen.

Harry, still naked and rummaging through his trunk, looked over his shoulder and called out: “Come in Ron.”

Ron opened the door to admit both him and Hermione. Hermione sighed and shook her head. “I _told_ you that you should just organize your clothes so that you don't have this problem. We have plenty of space this year. Here!” She promptly conjured a large armoire between Harry's bedside table and the fireplace. “There, now you can just put your clothes in their proper place. Do you want me to do that while you get dressed?”

Harry shrugged. “I have a lot of new clothes, and maybe it's weird, but new clothes make me itch. I was looking for something more comfortable.”

Ron laughed. “Mate, the point of new clothes is to wear them instead of old clothes.”

“Yeah, but my aunt and uncle never gave me new clothes until after Dudley was done wearing them, so even my new clothes are old clothes. Why do these clothes itch?”

“Did you wash them?” Hermione asked, biting her lip while wearing an expression that was clearly determined to solve the problem.

“Yeah, at least three times,” Harry answered with a shrug.

“Maybe they're too tight?” Hermione suggested.

“Maybe,” Harry said in agreement as he pulled on one of his new pairs of denim trousers.

Hermione made a sound of fond exasperation. “ _Harry_ , you have pants now. Ones that fit, which I _know_ because I bought them for you.”

“ _Whaaaat_?” Harry whinged, also in a tone of fond exasperation. “I prefer not to wear pants under my trousers!”

“And then you complain that they itch!” Hermione argued with a huff.

“Well things get sweatier and itchier if I wear pants!” Harry protested.

“Which means that you lied when you said that you didn't wear pants because they were too big and smelled like your cousin kept them in a diaper pail,” Hermione pointed out.

“Well, no, that was true,” Harry informed her. “It's just that I got so used to _not_ wearing pants that _wearing_ them feels wrong.”

Hermione – who was busy putting his clothes away even as she argued – groaned in frustration and rolled her eyes so hard that her entire head followed.

Ron laughed. “Calm down, 'Mione. Lots of wizards prefer to not wear pants.”

“Yeah but – wait! Really?” Hermione asked in fascination.

“Yeah,” Ron confirmed. “Charlie and George both go without. And so did Fred.”

“At least one wizard complained to me that he didn't like dressing as a muggle because he liked the nice healthy breeze around his privates that his robes gave him,” Harry added with a shrug.

“Alright, fine. Are those trousers making you itch?” Hermione asked, getting back to the problem she _could_ solve.

“A little,” Harry admitted as he pulled on a new tee shirt that had a Doctor Who logo on it. He then tugged on his neck. “But this shirt itches more.”

Hermione pinched her chin in thought and hummed for a moment. Then she looked like she was struck by a brilliant idea and pulled out her wand to cast a spell on Harry. “How about now?”

Harry wiggled and jiggled and danced around a bit. “Er... no. Feels fine.”

Hermione grinned at him. “I cast a mild aging spell on them. Maybe you're just very extra sensitive to the chemicals that all clothes are treated with before they are sold.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed with a shrug.

Ron finished looking around the room and looked back at Harry. “You know, I really thought you had been given your own room. I'm sharing with Neville and Dean with Seamus, so... who're you sharing with?”

“Draco Malfoy, why?” Harry asked curiously, although, if he'd thought about it for even a second, he would have realized that it was normal for his friends to be curious.

“Malfoy?!” Both Ron and Hermione blurted out in surprise.

“Yeah, McGonagall told us that, well, basically that she insists and that she expects us to get along or she'll expel us both, so...” he trailed off with a shrug.

“But isn't she afraid that you'll murder each other?” Ron asked, a wince letting Harry know that Ron thought it equally likely that Harry might kill Draco as Draco might kill Harry. Especially considering their history.

“I'm sure she simply expects them both to act like adults, Ron,” Hermione stated.

Ron merely shrugged. Then he gestured at Harry, who was just pulling on his school robes. “Since you're dressed now, can we _please_ go down to eat breakfast?”

“You'd think you were starving,” Hermione muttered, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

“Nope! I only do that when I'm on the run from Dark Lords!” Ron retorted with a laugh.

Harry grinned at his best friends. “You know, I just realized that maybe I was lucky to be starved so often as a child. I was used to it when we were camping out and had nothing to eat.”

“Whereas Ron turned into a moody bear at the drop of a hat,” Hermione added, teasing her boyfriend before giving him a kiss.

Harry pressed a finger to his lips and looked to the ceiling in thought. “You know, this was the first year that I didn't gorge myself at the welcoming feast and make myself sick.”

“You're learning,” Hermione informed him with a cheeky smirk. Since Ron had impatiently filled Harry's bag with all of his books and things, Hermione simply slipped her arm through Harry's and kissed him on the cheek. “Did you do your transfiguration essay?”

“As it happens, I did,” Harry stated.

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“I, er, sort of had to. Kreacher threatened to make my life miserable if I didn't. Speaking of, do you know what he told me?”

Their voices faded as they left the room, shutting the door behind them. Draco – who had been quietly moisturizing his face, brushing his hair, and then spelling it to perfection, not to mention brushing his teeth as he listened to them – had to wonder just how much of what had been said was the truth. How much had simply been them joking around? They certainly sounded like it was normal for Harry to wear old clothes and be starved. Actually, who would joke about that???

 

***

 

The pattern continued for the next month, so much so that Harry and Draco largely got used to waking up together without saying a word. Draco was fascinated by the fact that Harry's nightmares always featured a friend of his and an event that either happened, or could have happened. As far as he could tell, the dreams about Cedric and Fred dying were exactly as they happened. The dreams about Hermione and Nagini were what could have happened, as were the dreams about Ron and the Acromantulas.

The ones that made Draco want to shake Harry awake and slap him repeatedly were the ones that...

“Fire! Nonononononono! MALFOY!”

Draco sighed in mild aggravation and slipped from his bed. In his opinion, Harry had no right to have nightmares about _that_ particular event. That one belonged to Draco.

Long used to the fact that Harry would latch onto Draco the moment his nightmare calmed down, Draco took the time to get comfortable on the bed before stroking Harry's hair. If he were honest – which he was; to himself; silently in his head – he didn't mind Harry's nightmares in general because they gave him an excuse to slip into Harry's bed and get some real sleep. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fall asleep on his own before Harry's nightmare disrupted the quiet.

In the same way, Harry decided to quietly accept the fact that Draco was basically sleeping with him – in a sadly platonic way. Rather than have between three to four nightmares a night, he was only having one. It seemed as if Draco had some sort of strange magic that gave Harry peaceful sleep. Even better than Ginny! Although he planned to _never_ admit that to anyone.

Morning was now the best time of day for both of them. It was the time when they could both drift awake and just enjoy the feeling of being held and holding someone like lovers. Neither had ever experienced such a thing in their lives. Not even when Harry stayed with Ron in the Burrow had he been required to share a bed. Ginny didn't count because it hadn't felt safe and... like _this_. Also, his parents had died when he was so young that he never had a chance to crawl in their bed when he was scared at night either.

Draco probably _could_ have crawled into bed with his parents when he was scared as a child, but he never had. Anytime he woke up at night, a house elf would pop in to see if he needed anything and stay with him until he fell back to sleep. Thus, he kept his eyes shut and his breathing as even as possible each morning until Harry woke up and gently pried them apart.

Best of all, sometimes they woke up to the remnants of erotic dreams and frotted pleasantly until... Draco sighed in disappointment. Until Harry woke up enough to realize what was going on and stopped. Draco seriously hoped that one of these mornings, Harry would keep going until after they both got off. Draco was developing a gigantic case of blue balls! Not even wanking during his morning routine in the bathroom and each night during his shower was helping to diminish his sexual frustration.

And then there was the fact that Harry habitually strutted around their room naked...

It was enough to drive Draco mad!

This morning, when Harry pulled free from Draco, rather than keep his mouth shut as he usually did, Draco sat up and grumbled: “I'd really appreciate it if you stopped having nightmares of me in that fire. It's not something I like thinking about either.”

Harry flushed a glowing shade of red. “It's not like I do it on purpose!” He stomped into the bathroom and quickly wanked away the problem that woke him up every morning. At this rate, he was going to have to tell Ginny that he and Draco were...

Doing... something... He honestly had no idea what to call it, which was why he hadn't told her yet. How does one tell his unofficial official girlfriend-like person that he was regularly sleeping platonically with a person who, well, who he practically molested on a morningly basis.

After wanking and having a nice slash, Harry yanked on his hair in frustration at how complicated just sharing a room with Draco sodding Malfoy was. Oh sure, they got along surprisingly well – they hadn't even argued! But that was only because they were busy not talking to each other as they did their homework.

They were also busy not talking to each other in all the classes they shared in which they sat together. The rest of the Eighth Years didn't quite know what to make of them. They didn't seem to be friends, and yet they clearly weren't enemies anymore either.

“And that's the problem!” Harry roared to an empty corridor on his way back to his room during his only free period – Wednesdays after lunch. Or at least he thought it was empty. A couple of third years poked their head out of a classroom to watch him warily as he walked by.

He ignored them and muttered to himself. “We're not friends, we're not enemies, and I have _no idea_ what we actually are. Roommates? Yearmates? Acquaintances who happen to sleep together? That sounds far more fun than it really is,” Harry ended with a long and frustrated exhalation.

He was quiet and broody all through dinner that night. Ginny – as was her habit – sat next to him while Ron and Hermione sat across the table from them. The three of them kept glancing at Harry in concern, but didn't try to make him talk. They all knew that he was far more likely to tell them what the problem was when there was no one around to overhear him.

But Harry skived off before they finished their dinner. “I've got an essay I need to finish writing, so I'm going to go to the library for a bit.”

“Alright,” his friends murmured in unison as he got up and left. They were frowning as they watched him go. All of them wished they knew what made Harry so broody now that he had nothing more important to worry about than his NEWTs.

After a quick trip to the library to pick up a few books he needed, he returned to his room to find that Draco was just returning from dinner too. This wasn't so surprising since Draco was pretty much _always_ in their room when he didn't have to be out of it for class or meals. Harry had to wonder if people were bullying him – which he did sort of deserve, but Harry hated the thought of anyway.

They sat in silence like they usually did while working, and then Harry noticed that it was late enough for Dudley to be home. He grabbed a pinch of floo powder and tossed it in the fireplace. “Dudley's flat!”

“Hiya Harry,” Dudley greeted pleasantly enough.

“You sound like you're in a good mood,” Harry remarked, somewhat jealous since he most definitely was not in a good mood himself.

“I am. Today we had an important test in our physical training and I passed it with flying colors!”

“Good job!” Harry praised sincerely.

“And I was partnered with this girl I like for a report we have to write on a particular law,” Dudley added. “Don't suppose you know anything about girls?”

“Nooooo....” Harry denied with a fervent shake of his head. “I honestly can't figure them out. For example, I was dating a girl named Ginny, but I broke it off with her before I had to go on the run for a year. After that, she acts like we're still together, but I don't think we are. We never specifically got back together, nor do we really talk about it or go on dates. So, I've got no bloody clue what's going on. And when it comes to other girls, if I need to understand something, I just ask Hermione to explain it to me – she's my best friend, and she's brilliant, so...” Harry trailed off with a shrug.

“So, why don't you ask her about that Ginny girl?” Dudley wondered.

Harry sighed a bit heavily. “Well, I suppose it's because Hermione is dating Ginny's brother – my other best friend, Ron. You might remember Ron. He's the bloke that had his brothers fly that car to our house to break me out that year when your dad put bars on my window and locked me in my room.”

Dudley smiled a bit sadly. “You know, I secretly always wondered what it was like to ride in a flying car.”

Harry shrugged. “It was fun at first, but then it felt just like riding in any car. Couldn't even tell we were flying if we didn't look down. That car ended up driving itself into the nearby forest, and it saved us when we were about to be eaten by gigantic spiders.”

“I thought you weren't afraid of spiders?” Dudley asked.

“Oh I'm not. Not usually,” Harry replied with a tiny, forced smile. “There were always too many spiders in the cupboard I slept in for me to be scared of them. They'd crawl all over me as I slept – I think they were snuggling! Anyway, the spiders that nearly ate us are called Acromantulas. They're about six feet tall and there were at least fifty or a hundred of them surrounding us. I'm pretty sure _anyone_ would be afraid at that point. Especially since I was only 12 years old.”

“So hang on,” Dudley murmured in confusion. “ _Why_ were you nearly eaten by giant spiders at 12?”

Harry exhaled a huff of laughter. “That's a bit of a long story! Basically, there was a monster hiding in the castle, and people were getting petrified – which is a bit like being frozen solid. Everyone was afraid that someone was going to die, and I seemed to be the only one who could hear the monster. It would move around unseen, but I could hear it saying: ' _Rip, tear, kill_.' So, when Ron and I suspected that it might belong to a friend of ours, we went to talk to him, only he was arrested on the suspicion of owning a monster and trying to kill the students. As he was being taken away, he told us to follow the spiders – and we did. Which led us to the Acromantula colony.”

“Sounds like he really did try to kill students! Sending you to a place like that!” Dudley blurted out in alarm.

Harry laughed – a genuine one this time. “Oh no! Hagrid's like big teddy bear! He wouldn't hurt a fly. That said, he has a very abnormal sense of what is or is not a dangerous creature. He's friends with Aragog – that's the leader of the Acromantulas. Or well, he was before Aragog died. Held a funeral for him and everything. Hagrid also hatched a baby Dragon in my first year and would have kept her forever if she hadn't quickly become too big to take care of. Anyway, he honestly didn't think that the Acromantulas would harm us.”

“What a nutter!” Dudley exclaimed with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, but we love him anyway,” Harry agreed with a grin.

“Listen, as much as I'd love to hear more about this, such as how in the buggering hell a _car_ saved you from a bunch of giant spiders, I have to go. I promised Donna that I'd meet her for drinks before we studied tonight.”

“Alright Big D. Have a good time!” Harry wished.

“Thanks! Good luck with your own studies.”

When Harry pulled his head from the fire, it was to see Draco frowning at him.

“How can your cousin, whom you _lived with_ , not know about all of this already?” Draco demanded with a disbelieving frown.

“You heard that?” Harry asked in surprise because he didn't think anyone could hear him once his head was in the fire.

Draco shrugged. “I can only hear your half of the conversation, and I can only hear it quietly. Answer the question. You lived with your cousin for years, and yet you always talk to him like the two of you just met recently. How is that possible?”

It was Harry's turn to shrug. “Well, it's mostly because I wasn't allowed to talk about magic, or my school, or _anything_ really. I was expected to basically just sit there in silence. Better yet, stay in my room or outside. And Dudley was encouraged to bully me, so we didn't get along at all. Until recently. I guess he's grown up a little too.”

Draco frowned at Harry, looking both uncomfortable and affronted.

Harry wiped some sweat from his brow, and then looked around. “It's really hot in here, considering that it's October.”

Draco didn't say anything because it was clear that Harry was talking to himself. Harry cast a cooling charm, which lowered the temperature in the room to something close to perfection. For a few minutes. They each worked on their homework in silence until Harry roared in frustration and stood up. He promptly stripped off everything and strutted around naked as he searched for a suitable pair of his pants.

Once again, Draco found himself trying his best not to be noticed as he stared at Harry. The raven haired boy was shorter, more muscular, and still a strange balance between malnourished and healthy looking. Harry ran his hands through his hair until it was sticking up as much as possible.

“Ahhhh, there. That's better,” Harry muttered; obviously feeling cooler.

Draco let out a sigh of frustration. He was used to the dungeons, where it was almost always cold – unless you were sitting right next to the fire. Thus, the heat of their room was getting to him as well. Only he didn't feel like he could strip down because he didn't think it was appropriate for his one time rival to see him less than fully dressed. Even his pajamas covered him completely.

Propping his chin on his hand, Draco wished that Blaise was here to share a room with him instead. Or even Greg! If it were either of them, Draco would have no problem stripping off. And bonus! If it were Blaise here, they could fool around and relieve some of their stress.

Harry must have noticed that Draco was no longer doing his homework, because he turned around to peer at Draco. “You know, you can get comfortable too. I promise I won't tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?” Draco asked curiously. He didn't think Harry was referring to something as simple as Draco taking clothes off, since he was fairly certain that this would not come as a shock to anyone. After all, _everyone_ had to take their clothes off to change.

“That I saw you in just your pants,” Harry answered with a soft smirk.

Draco harrumphed, but a minute later, he relented with a frustrated growl. “Alright! Since it's difficult to concentrate in this heat, I'll get comfortable. Just don't stare at me!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Because yeah, staring at you is my greatest pleasure in life!” His words dripped in sarcasm and he ended with a derisive snort. Even so, he felt his pulse speed up a bit. It took every bit of willpower he had, but he did _not_ sneak a peek at what he was sure _had_ to be a body worth drooling over.

They both managed to study in silence for nearly an hour, then suddenly, there was a pounding knock at the door. “Harry! This is important, I _need_ you!”

Harry _might_ have considered ignoring the pounding and pretending he wasn't in if it was Ron – because Ron could be a little over-dramatic at times – but this was Hermione. Without even pausing to think, Harry simply leapt to his feet, grabbed his invisibility cloak out of his trunk, and tossed it over Draco. Then he rushed to open the door.

“What's the matter?” He asked as Hermione slipped into his room, followed by Ron.

Hermione was biting her lip and grimacing while Ron was practically wringing his hands and fretting like a mother hen. They both looked around, and then frowned in confusion. “Where's Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“Don't worry about him. He's right there under my invisibility cloak so that you can't see him less than fully dressed,” Harry explained.

“Er...” Ron began, clearly wondering what to think about this information.

Hermione spoke up before he could say anything else. “Fine.” She pulled her bath robe around her more securely. “I need your help, Harry.”

“Anything,” Harry promised.

“So, well, Ron and I tried something, and it didn't go so well. I need you to cast a healing spell on me, and... something else...” Hermione explained vaguely, looking around the room again. She was clutching a book tightly in one hand.

“Alright...” Harry replied slowly. “What else?”

She thrust the book into Harry's hands. “Remember this book you borrowed to me? Well, I need you to perform a spell from it.”

Harry looked at the book, which was a manual of sexual techniques and spells. He blushed redder than he thought possible. “You want me to _what_?!?!”

“Please Harry,” Ron added, begging. “I'm not good with healing spells, and after things went wrong, I don't trust myself to fix it.”

“What about Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked a bit desperately.

“I'll go to her if you won't do it, but please don't make me tell her something so mortifying!” Hermione exclaimed, sounding close to tears.

Harry took a deep breath in and held it for a moment.

“I'd do it for you,” Hermione added softly.

Harry exhaled all his breath in a soft rush. “I know you would. Alright. What, er... do you need me to do?”

Also exhaling in relief, Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him into the en suite bathroom. She shut the door and gestured for Harry to open the book to the page she had bookmarked.

“So, Ron and I tried the spell on magical toys. He, er, _well_ , he...” she trailed off with a blush, and then forced herself to spit it out. “He charmed a toy to... to bury itself... in my arse. And vibrate. It was going nicely until, well...” She took a deep breath. “It got a bit _too_ enthusiastic. And painful. There's some blood, and it won't come out.”

“And you're _sure_ you don't want Madam Pomfrey to do this?” Harry asked, blushing lightly again.

“Would _you_?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“Er... I suppose not,” Harry murmured, knowing that he'd prefer to have Hermione do something like this than a professional Mediwitch.

Nodding in agreement, understanding, and relief, Hermione untied her sash and dropped her robe. This meant that she was rather abruptly naked in front of Harry, but he had seen this sight before and wasn't flustered. They had – after all – shared a tent for months. He frowned sympathetically.

[“Your inked tattoos are fading.”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10194281/chapters/22639700)

She nodded sadly. “I didn't notice it at first, but yes. The one who created them died, and they're supposed to remain until he removed them. I suppose his magic is fading, and so are they. Anyway...” She pointed to a spell in the book. “This spell is supposed to deactivate the toy and... _expel_ it... Only it didn't work for Ron. I think he was too nervous.”

“Alright,” Harry stated in understanding. He took a deep breath as Hermione leaned over the sink to give him a slightly better view of her colorful bum. He cast the spell, which worked for him. When the toy emerged – thankfully _not_ shooting out like a rocket, as he had suspected would happen – he levitated it into the sink. Sure enough, there was an alarming amount of fresh blood covering the toy and now dribbling down Hermione's legs.

Harry couldn't help but purr in sympathy. He instantly forgot all embarrassment and got to his knees to get a better look. With one hand on her left buttock, he cast spells to clean up the blood he could see, before casting a spell he occasionally used on himself to clean her out. Then he grabbed the book again and quickly flipped through it. He had memorized all the spells he wanted to try at some point, and also, the general layout of the book. Thus, he quickly located a spell that he honestly thought he'd _never_ use...

A spell to project the inside of the colon, for voyeuristic purposes that Harry really didn't want to think about. In any case, he needed it now to see where the blood was coming from so that he could heal it. After casting the spell, he healed the most obvious damage. Then he cleaned Hermione out again and healed anything he had missed the first time. A minute later, he was fairly certain that he had gotten everything.

Hermione had long since sighed in relief at the dramatic disappearance of her pain. Now she sighed again, grateful that Harry was finished. She turned and hugged him tight.

“Thank you!”

“No problem,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I'm fairly sure that this is _nothing_ compared to the time Nagini bit me and you saved me from dying.”

“Even so, I'm certain this was far more mortifying.”

“Well, at first, yes, but when I realized how bad it was, I just... thought of it like a medical emergency, or something,” Harry muttered, more embarrassed now by the fact that she was so grateful than he had been about doing it in the first place.

He looked at her feet to try to hide his light blush of embarrassment, only to notice something move. He frowned and stared intently, trying to figure out what had moved. Suddenly, a colorful little snake slithered out from the bottom of her left foot, looked up at him for a moment, before rapidly winding a path up her leg to hide on her calf. Harry tilted his head to the side in fascination.

Hermione laughed softly. “That's the tattoo that Ron got me for my birthday. I'm still getting used to him. Or her. And he seems shy.”

“Did Ron pick it out, or did you?” Harry asked curiously.

“We picked him out together. Since he's a magical tattoo, he can move around – although he's more or less confined to my lower leg since he was drawn on my calf. It's strangely fascinating to watch him wind circles around my leg, and I'd swear it even tickles a bit when he goes onto the bottom of my foot.”

“Now I want one!” Harry blurted out as Hermione laughed. She also pulled her robe on and tied the sash.

When Hermione opened the door a moment later, they found Ron pacing anxiously.

“Everything alright?” He asked almost frantically.

“Everything's fine,” Hermione assured him with a smile.

He sighed in profound relief. “Thank Merlin!”

“And Harry,” Hermione reminded him. She kissed Harry on the cheek. “Thanks again. If you are serious about getting a tattoo, I can bring you to the wizard Ron brought me to. He did a load of research to find the best of the best, and I really liked him.”

“Yeah, actually, I think I am. I like snakes, and it seems like it would be interesting to have one slithering all around my leg.”

“Oh! So you noticed Snakey!” Ron exclaimed with a proud grin, happy that the crisis was over.

“Snakey the snake?” Harry asked with a laugh.

Ron shrugged. “It was the best I could come up with. And 'Mione wanted to name him _Hubert_! Or was it Rupert?”

With a laugh, Hermione tugged on Ron's arm. “Come on, let's let Harry get back to his studying.”

Harry pressed a finger to his bottom lip. “I seem to have a talent for Healing. Maybe I should consider becoming a Healer instead of an Auror?”

Hermione grinned at him. “I think you are talented enough to become anything you want – if you put your mind to it.”

“There you go talking about yourself again!” Harry teased, poking her on the nose. “Do you need this book still?” He asked, holding up the book that he had grabbed when they left the bathroom.

“No, I've basically memorized it,” Hermione stated, flapping her hand dismissively.

“Used it that much, have you?” Harry asked with an impish grin.

She laughed and pulled Ron out of the room before the three of them got lost in their own little world of jokes and teasing. There was something she wanted to finish. _Without_ magical toys!

“G'night Harry!” They called out as they left.

“Good night!” He called in return, smiling to himself after they were gone. Whenever it was just the three of them, he always felt safe and loved and happy. It was the rest of the time that he didn't know how to handle.

He was actually startled a moment later when Draco pulled the cloak off and tossed it to Harry. “Thanks for letting me borrow that. You're right, I wouldn't have wanted them to see me in my pants. So... what was wrong?”

Harry blushed lightly as he put the cloak back in his trunk. “Er... I'm not going to tell you since it's private.”

“Fair enough,” Draco replied with a light sigh.

Harry tossed the book on his bed and stripped out of his pants. “I'm going to take my shower. Maybe then I'll finally feel cooler and able to study.”

Draco pressed his lips together and looked away until Harry was walking into the bathroom, then he got a good look at Harry's arse. Again. This was becoming his favorite and most torturous part of the day. If Harry really _did_ get a tattoo of a snake, Draco was going to die from UST!

And Harry would be oblivious as to the cause of Draco's death...

He sighed morosely and walked over to Harry's bed. Maybe reading the book would help him figure out what Hermione's emergency had been. Maybe he'd learn a new healing spell.

“The Wizard's Guide to Sexual Techniques and Spells?” Draco asked no one as he read the title. This was _not_ what he had expected at all. Strangely fascinated, he drifted back to his own side of the room as he read through the book. By the time Harry emerged from the bathroom, Draco was sitting cross-legged on his bed, utterly absorbed in the book.

Oblivious, Harry stashed the newly cleaned and sanitized toy in his trunk and crawled into his bed. He then finished up a little homework before closing his eyes and relaxing into the sweet siren call of sleep. Less than two minutes later, a soft popping noise startled him awake.

“Aaa! Kreacher!” Harry shouted in alarm as he sat up and stared at his house elf. He pressed a hand to his racing heart and panted in an attempt to calm down.

Kreacher gave Harry a look that made his skin crawl. It was a creepy sort of smile. Kreacher looked both maniacal and rather chuffed.

“Have you come to murder me in my sleep?” Harry asked warily.

“Oh no Master,” Kreacher said in a tone that was not exactly reassuring. “Kreacher cannot murder you until you either free me or give me to someone else. Someone who would not stop me.”

“Er...” Harry droned, his brain still a little fogged from his short time drifting off to sleep. “I can't tell if you want me to free you or not.”

“Definitely not,” Kreacher growled darkly. “I will serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black until the day I die.”

“Alright... Then what _do_ you want?” Harry asked slowly.

“Kreacher has the best news to tell Master Harry.”

Harry swallowed nervously. “Uh-huh... and what's that?”

“Winky is going to have a little house elf to serve Master Harry!” Kreacher announced in a tone that was as close to approaching glee as he could get.

“Right now?!” Harry blurted out in alarm.

“No Master,” Kreacher replied in a tone that clearly wondered how stupid Harry was. “It takes the same amount of time as it does for humans. And normally, only one or two are born at a time.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Alright then. Er... Congratulations?”

“Thank you Master!” Kreacher replied, actually sounding happy. In his own way.

“So... do elves get married?” Harry wondered.

“No,” Kreacher stated, shaking his head. “Most of the time, house elves are bred by their Masters, with the baby elf going to the Master of the father unless they have agreed otherwise. A lot of times, the Master of the mother will make a deal that the elves will breed more than once so that they each get a baby elf – unless there are two to begin with. It's almost unheard of for elves to breed without permission from their Masters, which is why Kreacher asked Master Harry for permission.”

“Hang on, when was this?” Harry wondered.

“Master does not remember? Kreacher told Master that Winky was Kreacher's girlfriend and that Kreacher wanted Winky to have baby elves. Master _tried_ to _free_ the babies!”

“Yeah, but I don't recall you asking for permission to _have_ babies, or me granting it!” Harry cried out in frustration.

“Master did not say no and implied during the conversation that Kreacher was allowed to have babies, so Kreacher understood that Master Harry was granting permission.”

Harry exhaled in defeat, still fairly frustrated. “Are you sure you weren't sorted into Slytherin?”

Kreacher looked positively delighted. “Master Harry thinks Kreacher could have been sorted into the proud and noble House of Slytherin?”

“Undoubtedly,” Harry grumbled, running his hands through his hair. “Anyway, congratulations on the future baby. I can tell you really wanted one.”

“Thank you, Master Harry. Now, should Kreacher get Master a snack? Master obviously needs his energy to finish up his homework.”

“Er, no. That's alright. I've nearly finished it,” Harry informed him.

“Nearly? And Master is trying to go to sleep?” Kreacher asked in an offended tone.

Harry waved his hands back and forth frantically. “There's no need to threaten me! I only have a little bit left to do, and it has to wait until I can ask Hermione a question. _Tomorrow_ morning!” He added in case Kreacher got it in his head to go get her right now. He was dead certain that she was busy doing something highly intimate with Ron.

“Kreacher would never threaten Master. Kreacher _lives_ to serve Master.”

Harry sighed in defeat again. “Well, then... Yes. I'd like some hot chocolate. Made with milk. Extra creamy. And some treacle tart.”

Kreacher grinned, making Harry's skin crawl again. “As Master wishes!”

“And no poison!” Harry called after him.

Draco snickered quietly from his side of the room.

“What?” Harry asked defensively.

“You're far too lenient on your house elf, and he walks all over you. It's hilarious!”

Harry decided not to say anything because when he thought of it objectively, his conversation with Kreacher was pretty funny. Kreacher returned with Harry's hot chocolate and treacle tart. He gave them to Harry with a respectful bow.

“Here you are, Master Harry. Enjoy and have pleasant dreams.”

Harry chuckled mirthlessly. “When you say that, it sounds like you are planning to hex me.” Because Kreacher's voice was gloomy and melodramatic in general.

“Kreacher could cast a sleeping curse on Master, but then Master would be resting peacefully until his true love comes along and wakes him with a kiss on the...” Kreacher's eyes roamed up and down Harry significantly. “Mouth,” he said in a way that made Harry wonder if Kreacher was _actually_ making an innuendo.

“Er... right... don't do that,” Harry ordered. “Good night Kreacher, and tell Winky I'm happy for the two of you.”

With a nod, Kreacher left the room.

Still snickering, Draco put his quill down. “I guess I'm all done with my homework too.”

Harry laughed. “So it's time to make yourself all pretty before going to bed?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Not everyone is content to look like the offspring of a _troll_ , Potter.”

“I wouldn't call it content, exactly,” Harry muttered with a shrug. “More like resigned to.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “So yes, I'm off to make myself look pretty before going to bed.”

Harry chuckled but didn't say anything. He simply ate his tart and drank his chocolate, then settled down to drift off again. As usual for when he was still awake when Draco was in the bathroom, his ears strained to listen for any clues as to what the gorgeous blond was doing. He liked to imagine a long and drawn out sponge bath, followed by a nice long wank, followed by slowly and sensually drying that tall and lithe body with a soft and fluffy towel. Maybe then he rubbed oil into his skin until he glistened like a God.

With a groan of longing, Harry wanked himself nearly raw, then spelled himself clean and passed out before Draco finished doing whatever it was he actually did in the bathroom that took at least two hours each night.

When Draco emerged from the bathroom, he barely had time to make it to his bed before he heard Harry whimpering from a nightmare. With a sigh, he debated pulling pajamas on over his pants, but then Harry started shouting – as he often did when suffering from nightmares.

“No! Malfoy no! Fire! Nononononono! Draco!”

Draco stopped short next to Harry's bed. That was new. Harry had never called Draco by name before, not in person nor in his sleep.

“Grab my hand, Draco!” Harry cried out, reaching a hand out in front of him as if trying to pluck the snitch out of the air.

With a frown, Draco did as told, taking hold of Harry's hand. To his surprise – which made him yelp – Harry yanked Draco onto the bed and into his arms. Harry exhaled in relief, holding onto Draco so tightly that he could barely breathe.

“I've got you now...” Harry murmured sleepily, obviously calming down.

Surrendering, despite his discomfort at being held in such an awkward position, Draco closed his eyes and snuggled into Harry. At least this way, they were both guaranteed a good night's sleep. He even stroked Harry's hair soothingly before rubbing Harry's back. Sleep overtook him surprisingly quickly.

In the morning, Harry moaned happily, waking Draco to a very pleasant grinding. _Please oh please_ , Draco thought. _By Salazar's scraggly pubic hair!_ Please _let Harry remain asleep until_ after _we've gotten off!_

Harry's moaning and grinding got a little more intense. Draco could feel the heat of an orgasm approaching and was tempted to hold his breath. He couldn't help but gasp at how good it felt.

Which, of course, dragged Harry from his dream. He went completely still, making Draco growl in frustration and no small amount of aggravation.

“Merlin's hairy arse, Potter! Stop waking up _before_ we get off!”

“Er...” Harry droned, not sure what to say to that. “You _want_ me to get you off?”

“Yes! It's bound to be better than getting _so buggering close_ each morning, only to be abandoned just before it happens!”

Harry was so elated to hear that that he kissed Draco before he had a chance to think about what he was doing. When it hit him, he pulled back from the rather demanding and possessive kiss with a gasp. Then he practically pushed Draco off the bed as he scrambled to get free and run to the bathroom.

“Coward!” Draco shouted after him, not happy at all to be treated like a monster just waiting to murder Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry called out from inside the bathroom, which had the door firmly shut and Harry leaning against it. He was panting heavily and did nothing at all until he calmed down completely. Then he conducted his morning business. He was still being fairly cowardly a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door of their room. He burst out of the bathroom and rushed to open the door, only pausing to look back at Draco – who was stalking into the bathroom rather angrily.

Inordinately relieved and not entirely sure why, Harry opened the door to admit his friends.

“Aren't you ready to go eat breakfast _yet_?” Ron asked with a hint of whinging.

“In a mo,” Harry murmured. “Just have to get dressed.” He then proved that he was planning to do just that by stripping off his pants and opening his armoire. Since he wasn't looking at them, he decided it was a good time to casually ask them a question. “Do either of you know what Ginny thinks about... well... are we dating or not?”

“Oh don't get me started!” Ron half roared. “She's been driving me spare with questions like: _Does Harry still want me? Does he still consider me his girlfriend?_ And things like that. I tell her to just ask you, but she refuses!”

Hermione sighed. “She thinks that if she brings it up, you'll decide to officially break up with her.”

“But I already officially broke up with her at the end of Sixth Year!” Harry protested in mild frustration.

“Well, yes, you did,” Hermione admitted with a half shrug. “But that was obviously for her protection. I'm fairly sure that she didn't consider that to be a serious break up.”

“And besides, you let her sleep with you almost every night from her birthday until we came back to Hogwarts,” Ron added.

Harry blushed. “But we weren't _doing_ anything!”

“Ever?” Ron asked, torn between curiosity and being squicked by the fact that his sister was part of this equation.

Harry blushed a little harder and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away. “Well yes, once or twice. But not at night when we were sleeping. She'd just snuggle up with me and since it helped keep the nightmares to a minimum, I didn't mind.”

Ron felt himself go into big brother mode. “Wait, _when_ was this once or twice?”

Harry sighed and hung his head just a little. “On my birthday. And hers.”

“So... then... don't you consider that official boyfriend and girlfriend activities?” Ron wondered, no longer feeling protective so much as curious.

“I don't know!” Harry exclaimed defensively. “Maybe?” By this point, he was completely dressed, but not relishing the idea of walking through the Eighth Year common room while having this conversation.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione murmured. “You should probably just talk to her about this.”

“And hang on,” Ron added. “You used to want to be with Ginny, but now you sound like you don't.”

“That's the thing,” Harry informed his best friend. “I don't _know_ what I want. When I think of Ginny, I think of sunshine and happiness and having kids someday.”

“Well, that sounds like a good thing,” both Ron and Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah, but...” Harry sighed a bit morosely. “I'm not entirely sure if I want those things because of Ginny, or if I just want those things and I think Ginny is the easiest way to have them.”

Hermione frowned in thought for a moment. “Well... is there someone else?”

Harry glanced toward the slightly open bathroom door for a moment as he absently scratched an itch on the corner of his mouth, and then shrugged. “I don't know.”

Ron was chewing on his thumb nail in thought, but Hermione was studying the bathroom door curiously. “I see. Well, I still think you should talk to Ginny. Maybe _she_ can help you figure out whether or not you want a family because of her... or if you just want a family and she's a good way to have one.”

“When do you think you'll want those kids? Because Ginny has been talking a lot lately about playing Quidditch professionally,” Ron informed them.

Harry sighed longingly. “I want kids right now, if I could have them while studying for my NEWTs. And oh! Kreacher's having a baby!”

“He's pregnant?!” Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione snorted in amusement. “He means _Winky_ is having a baby.”

Feeling better about the conversation now, Harry opened the door and led them out. “And apparently _I_ have no choice but to own the baby.”

“Hmm...” Hermione hummed speculatively.

But then Draco heard no more since they had left and shut the door.

“Harry says he wants a family more than anything,” he murmured to himself as he applied some moisturizer. “And he doesn't sound certain he wants to be with the weaselette. I wonder who else he might be interested in?”

Draco then drove himself mad debating all the available witches and wizards in the castle – some of which were obviously unlikely, such as Hagrid. After wasting a good fifteen minutes drawing up a chart and listing any and all possible reasons Harry might or might not want to be with someone, he finally decided that the most likely scenario was that Harry was actually secretly in love with Hermione, and that's why he wouldn't just come out and say it, and why he wouldn't break up with Ginny. After all, anyone with eyes could see that little miss know-it-all and her weasel were _made_ for each other! Harry would be the last person willing to get between them.

It depressed Draco for a moment to realize that Harry didn't particularly care _who_ was sharing his bed, so long as the nightmares lessened. Then he perked back up again when he realized that if Harry didn't want Ginny as much as he used to, then _maybe_ Draco could talk Harry into playing around a little bit. It was certainly worth trying.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? The E rating becomes apparent in the next chapter :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are still as confusing for Harry as ever, especially now that he and Draco have gotten a little closer. Only now, Ginny seems to want to settle things with Harry and officially date again. Harry's not certain he wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, for those that *hate* Ginny, there is stuff you may not like in this chapter, but nothing explicit on page and it's needed to help Harry figure out his feelings - even if that's not overt, lol.

Harry stomped into his room after a frustratingly unhelpful conversation with Ginny. He had tried to hint that he might have feelings for someone else, but since he couldn't tell her who or what sort of feelings, she had assumed that he was just trying to get her to fool around by being playful and teasing her. So, they had snogged for a while. Then Harry tried to remind her that they weren't actually dating anymore.

Which nearly resulted in them shagging before Ron and Hermione accidentally walked in on them in the classroom they were in since it was empty at this time of day. Ron had been mortified; Hermione had been sympathetic; Harry had been strangely relieved. He draped Ginny's school robes over her mostly naked body before pulling on his own. Ginny had sounded ready to murder her brother as Harry walked away.

Ron had then caught up with Harry while Hermione stayed behind to talk with Ginny. Ron sounded like he wasn't quite sure whether to be furious with Harry for leading Ginny on, or sympathetic to Harry's plight.

“I said _talk_ to her!”

“I tried!” Harry protested defensively. “But she wouldn't listen. She kissed me when I said I thought there might be someone else, and then stripped us both naked and practically jumped on me when I reminded her that we weren't actually going out anymore.”

“Well... If you were trying to break up with her – again, sort of – then _why_ were you about to shag her?” Ron demanded, in protective big brother mode again.

Harry sighed in frustration. “I'm no good with girls!” He flung his hands out to illustrate his point. “When a girl strips off and tries to shag you, it just seems like the thing to do. Like saying no would be an insult.”

“So, you didn't want to?” Ron asked, shifting back into curious mode.

“Well, yeah. I suppose I did. But also no. I was trying to talk.” Harry roared softly in frustration and ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh...” Ron murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Now that Harry was alone in his room, he realized something important. He had  _ told _ Ginny the truth. It wasn't his fault if she didn't listen to him. Sure, he had been half tongue tied and tripped over his words, but they had all come out.

Which meant that if Harry accidentally did anything with Draco before fully waking up in the morning, he wouldn't have to feel guilty.

 

That night, Draco was more than half determined to ignore Harry when he started shouting in his sleep – just to see how long the nightmares lasted if no one interrupted them. But it was the third night in a row that Harry had dreamt of Draco. It was also the second night in a row that Harry had called out Draco's first name. He just couldn't ignore such anguished shouting for long.

Slipping into Harry's bed, Draco held Harry tight, shushing soothingly as he stroked Harry's hair. It didn't take long for them both to calm down and fall into a restful sleep.

In the morning, Harry woke up to find himself grinding against Draco again. Draco's eyes were closed and he seemed to be half holding his breath lest Harry wake up and stop again. He remembered that Draco had told him not to stop, and that made him moan in longing.

Harry kissed Draco, pressing their bodies closer together, which was not so easy since they were already holding onto one another rather possessively. When Draco realized that Harry was actually awake and doing this on purpose, his breath hitched. He pulled back to glare at Harry.

“I swear on Salazar's moldering grave that I will _murder_ you if you stop or run away again!”

Harry gave him a tiny smile. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Good. Now. Do carry on,” Draco commanded imperiously.

With a chuckle, Harry did. Starting by kissing Draco again. Draco responded before frowning and grabbing Harry's wand from under their pillow in order to cast a breath freshening charm on them both. Then he harrumphed softly, pleased with his brilliant thinking, before demanding another kiss. Harry happily complied.

A loud knock on their door tore them from a small bubble of bliss that had formed around them. They both froze, praying that no one would have the audacity to just walk in without permission. Ron might, but even he seemed to have basic common decency about the fact that Harry wasn't the only one staying in this room, and Draco might not appreciate people just walking in.

“It's for you,” Draco stated with utter certainty. He pulled free from Harry, who let go only because the knock came again.

“If we're silent, maybe whoever it is will just go away,” Harry whispered.

“Harry!” Ginny called out urgently, making Harry wonder if Hermione or Ron had let her into the Eighth Year Common Room – which had access to their bedrooms.

Draco slipped out of Harry's bed and stalked into the bathroom, shutting the door so firmly that it could almost be called slamming. With a frustrated sigh, Harry also got out of bed. He ran a hand through his hair out of sheer habit, actually scratching his lightly sweaty scalp as he opened the door.

“Er... Good morning, Ginny,” he greeted, then covered a yawn. “Something wrong?”

“Yes,” Ginny stated as she walked into the room and stared at him silently until his brain woke up enough to let him realize that she was waiting for him to close the door. Once the door was closed, she smiled and took his hand so that she could lead him back to his bed – which she correctly assumed was the messy one. She looked over to the pristine one and figured that house elves had come in to make it after Draco got up but before Harry did. “Malfoy in the bathroom?” She asked to confirm her theory.

“Yeah,” Harry answered with a nod. 

“Good. I bet he takes _ages,_ which will give us plenty of time,” she said as she lightly pushed Harry onto his bed and straddled his lap. “No one else can interrupt us in here,” she murmured just before kissing Harry.

Harry felt several conflicting emotions. First of all, he always loved kissing Ginny, and this time was no different in that aspect. However, he had been looking forward to sending her away and trying to coax Draco out of the bathroom to finish what they had started in their sleep. That said, he was fairly sure that Draco would rather hex him than look at him at this moment. And it's not like he and Draco were in a relationship. They had talked even less about whatever it was they were doing than he had talked to Ginny.

Ginny pulled off her school robes to reveal the fact that she was completely naked under them. This triggered both interest and alarm in Harry's brain. His hands roamed around to confirm this information even as he pulled back.

“Er... wait,” he bade with a confused frown. “I literally _just_ woke up. I'm not really prepared for... this.”

Ginny ground into him for a moment before leaning forward and reaching back to stroke his groin with her hand. “This right here says otherwise.”

Harry both chuckled and blushed. “Well, maybe, but I woke up like that.”

“Come on Harry,” Ginny pouted becomingly before kissing him again, leaning into him even more so that he was half forced onto his back. “We haven't done this since my birthday, and I _really_ want to.”

“Er...” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Why not now?” Ginny asked with a curious frown.

“I just woke up and I _really_ need to use the loo,” Harry informed her. “And – like I said – I wasn't prepared for this. Also, I don't want to be in the middle of shagging you when he comes out of the bathroom. That would be rude, don't you think?”

“So we close the curtains around your bed and cast silencing spells,” Ginny said as she kissed Harry's neck and ran her hands up and down his chest.

“Merlin's moldy toe nails, Ginny! You know I can't think straight when you do that!”

Ginny grinned and licked his nipples as she tugged his pants down just enough to free his eagerly erect shaft. One hand stroked him in a way that made him groan from the pleasure. Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember why he was trying to discourage her.

“Wait! Ron said something yesterday,” Harry blurted out.

“Harry, I really don't want to be thinking about my brother right now,” Ginny told him dryly.

“Yeah, but this was important. He said that this was a boyfriend girlfriend activity, and we're not,” Harry reminded her.

She sat up and sighed. “Harry, I have no idea why you don't want to be my boyfriend anymore, but I can accept it. If I have to. It makes some sense that you'd want to focus on your studies this year. Even so, shagging is a good way to relax. That's all I'm asking for at the moment. We can shag good and hard, and then we'll both be in an excellent mood for the rest of the day.”

Harry couldn't argue because he suspected that she wasn't wrong. Sensing that he was more or less in agreement, Ginny leaned over to kiss him again. One of her hands reached back to hold his shaft steady so that she could impale herself on it.

“If you're going to do that, at least close your curtains!” Draco called out from the now slightly open door of the bathroom. “I have things I need to do out there. Unless you don't mind me watching; which could be entertaining,” he admitted with a shrug.

Harry gasped in alarm at the suggestion. He sat up and pushed Ginny so that she was sitting on his knees rather than near (or on) his shaft. “I can't do this with someone else in the room! I'm sorry Ginny, but I just can't right now.”

Ginny sighed in disappointment, but nodded in agreement. “Later then?”

“Er...”

“It's Friday. We could get a room at the Three Broomstix, or we could floo back to your house,” Ginny suggested hopefully.

“Then we definitely wouldn't be interrupted,” Harry replied with a faint smile.

“Exactly!” Ginny agreed with a brilliant grin. She kissed Harry possessively before sliding off his lap and bending over to retrieve her robes. There was another knock at the door just as she was buttoning up her last button.

“Ready for breakfast?” Ron called out.

Harry exhaled in mild disgust. “I haven't even made it to the loo yet!”

Ginny gave him one last kiss, and then left the room, telling Ron and Hermione on the way out: “Give him a few minutes.”

Harry bit his lip and wondered if Ron was going to assume the worst – which he was nearly right about. Feeling inexplicably ganged up on, Harry trudged to the bathroom, pulling his pants up as he went because it was uncomfortable having them around his thighs, and simply taking them off didn't seem like a good idea at the moment either.

“Can I please use the loo for a minute?” He asked, tempted to peek through the crack. 

Draco opened the door to reveal that he had brushed his hair and teeth and looked utterly mouth-watering in nothing but his black silk pants. “You know, if you want to be alone with her, you don't have to go anywhere. Just let me know when and I'll study in the library for a while. However, for obvious reasons, first thing in the morning is not a good time.”

“I'm sorry!” Harry blurted out.

“For what?” Draco asked with a puzzled frown.

Harry pushed past him and just decided to use the loo while talking to Draco. He really didn't have much for modesty after living for so many years in a dorm, and then sharing a tent with his best friends. “For being interrupted, I suppose.”

“That wasn't _your_ fault,” Draco reminded him. “I wasn't _trying_ to listen in, but even with the door closed, I could hear most of it. It sounded a lot like you didn't _really_ want to shag her.”

“Well...” Harry drawled as he finished up his slash, which was awkward since he was still hard and pointing in entirely the wrong direction. He had to wonder how Draco accomplished the task while hard – perhaps in the shower? Harry would have if Draco wasn't in the bathroom since he was more than half certain that doing so would offend the Slytherin Prince. “Yes and no. I mean shagging is fun, not that I've done it a lot. If she hadn't sort of ambushed me first thing after I woke up, I probably would have agreed, but...”

Draco raised a brow. He was suddenly in a playful mood. “But you've never been watched before and that turned you off?”

As intended, Harry blushed. “Well, that too, but mostly just... We were...” he gestured back and forth between himself and Draco. “We were... doing something... and it didn't feel right to just...” he growled in frustration. “I don't know! Change partners so abruptly?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I'll admit that I didn't appreciate being interrupted, but it's not like we're  _ dating _ , Potter. You can shag whomever you like. As I said, just let me know when you need me to leave the room for a bit.”

“So...” Harry murmured, scrunching his face up in confusion. “We're not... not...” He shrugged, giving up his quest for an adequately descriptive word.

Draco smirked, looking a tiny bit evil. “We're not anything other than roommates. I comfort you when you're having nightmares, and you wake me up with a near orgasm in return. I'd say that's a fairly equal exchange – or will be when you wake me up with an  _ actual _ orgasm. That's all this needs to be.”

Harry decided to just accept this explanation and call it a day. He sincerely wished he could go back to bed and sleep for another hour or so, but he was acutely aware that his best friends – and probably Ginny – were waiting for him. Plus, he was getting a little (or a lot) hungry. To his profound relief, he was  _ finally _ no longer erect.

Feeling strangely angry and having no bloody clue why, Harry stripped off his pants and grabbed the first thing from his armoire that he saw. Which resulted in a pair of brand new denim trousers so tight that Harry had to suck in his already rather slender abdomen to zip up. And a tee shirt that was also new that was purple with the words: Stop Staring! Written in bold white letters. The clothes immediately made him itch, but he ignored that for the moment, pulled on his school robes, and grabbed his bag so that he could leave.

“Oi, Mione,” he said the moment the door was open. “Can you cast that spell to make my clothes not itch?”

“Sure thing,” she agreed just before doing exactly that. They started walking toward the exit of their common room. Ginny had already gone ahead to breakfast.

“You seem grumpy this morning,” Ron informed him suspiciously.

Harry sighed in aggravation. “I was... interrupted.”  _ Twice _ ! He added in his mind. Although, he was more grumpy about what Draco had just said.

Ron raised a curious brow. “Ginny seemed far too happy to have been interrupted.”

“That's because we agreed to get together tonight,” Harry replied honestly.

Hermione put a hand on his arm and made them stop in the otherwise empty corridor. “Harry... if there's someone else you're interested in, you probably shouldn't lead her on.”

Harry sighed dejectedly. “But I don't know what to do! I... That other person isn't someone I can actually be with. He doesn't... want me. At all...” At least, not as a boyfriend-like person.

“He huh?” Ron questioned softly, sounding thoughtful. “You know, that actually make a lot of sense. It explains why you didn't take advantage of the fact that my sister insisted on sleeping in your bed. And why you don't really want to be her boyfriend anymore.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Well..... it's not boys in general. I like looking at and thinking about girls, I just...”

“Have always wanted Malfoy, even if you didn't realize it until recently,” Hermione provided helpfully.

Harry flushed a deep shade of red and looked away from her.

“Ah,” Ron stated in a tone of sudden enlightenment. “That also makes sense since he's probably the only wizard in the world that wouldn't at least try being bent for a while if _you_ asked.”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion. “You think I could just ask someone to be, er... gay... for me?”

Ron rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Harry's arm. “Mate, after what you did, I'm pretty sure you could have literally anyone you wanted. A new witch or wizard every night of the week. Even those who are married or otherwise committed would jump at the chance to shag you.”

“Er...” Harry droned because he hadn't even considered this possibility.

Ron shrugged. “Except Malfoy, it seems. He must still hate you. Sharing a room with him must be horrible!”

It was Harry's turn to shrug. “Not really. We don't talk to each other except for when we have to, and so we haven't fought at all. It's actually sort of peaceful after being stared at so much during the day, and we end up getting our homework done, so...” he trailed off with another shrug.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione murmured in sympathy, pulling him into a comforting hug. Harry closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder, happy to have such complete acceptance from his best friends.

He didn't notice Draco come out of the common room just then and stop short at the sight of the three of them just standing there. Harry looked happier than Draco had seen him before, which more or less confirmed Draco's suspicions that Harry was secretly in love with Hermione. When they pulled apart a moment later, Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek before taking Ron's hand and resuming their walk.

“So wait,” Harry said with a mischievous expression. “Why didn't you exclude yourself from that list of any witch or wizard in the world if I wanted, Ron?”

Ron snorted a laugh. “Like I'd say no! Me and Mione actually considered asking you to join us once, but we decided that it would be too weird if you were dating my sister.”

“ _Oh really_?!” Harry asked with deep interest.

“You've never thought about it?” Ron wondered curiously.

“Not really,” Harry admitted with a shrug. “I haven't thought about sex a lot at all, if I'm honest. At first, I had too much to think about with trying to defeat Voldemort, and then after he was defeated, I just... wanted to be a kid for a while, you know? It wasn't until Ginny told me what she wanted to give me for my birthday that I even had a moment to think: _Oh yeah, I can do that now if I want_.”

“Well, since it's the weekend and you have plans to leave school anyway, why don't we _all_ go stay at Grimmauld Place,” Ron suggested. “We can visit that tattoo wizard, and then just get drunk and pass out!”

“Ooo!” Hermione added excitedly. “I have the perfect idea! We can get _matching_ tattoos! Well, not exactly. Ron was with you when you defeated the basilisk – sort of – and I was with you when we saved Buckbeak. So Ron could get a basilisk, and I could get a Hippogriff, and _you_... you could get a Dragon since you defeated one all on your own in Fourth Year.”

“I don't really want a basilisk,” Ron replied, sounding like he was thinking over his other options.

“OR! Harry! We could all get a tattoo of the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, since they played a big part in defeating Voldemort,” Hermione added.

Harry laughed. “You wouldn't say that if you had heard what Viktor said when he saw Luna's dad wearing that symbol at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He was ready to positively  _ murder _ Mr. Lovegood!”

“That reminds me, I promised to firecall Viktor before Halloween,” Hermione murmured.

“You're still talking to him?” Ron growled jealously.

Hermione sighed. “Of course! We're still friends, but don't worry, [I haven't shagged him since the end of Fourth Year.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9920594/chapters/22229228)”

Ron harrumphed unhappily. It wasn't that he thought his girlfriend would lie to him, he was simply suspicious that she  _ had _ shagged Viktor recently and then just forgot about it or something. Something else occurred to him. 

“Are you ever going to tell me about that lover you had in Fifth Year?”

“I _can't_ tell you about him,” Hermione insisted firmly. “And besides, he died, so there's nothing to be jealous about. If you want to be jealous, I challenge you to figure out which of the Ravenclaws – that's currently a Seventh Year – that I played around with in Sixth Year. Well, one of three, but he's the only one still in Hogwarts. The others graduated at the end of that Year.”

“Wait!” Ron blurted out in alarm. “Just how many lovers have you had?”

Hermione shrugged. “The five that I just mentioned plus two more Ravenclaws right after I turned 15 but before I started playing around with Viktor. And you, of course. However, if you  _ really _ want to put things into perspective, you should know that I've shagged you more times than all of them put together.”

This made Ron go from looking rather furious to fairly speculative. “... Alright... that does make me feel a little better...”

“Why Ravenclaws?” Harry asked curiously. By this point, they were nearly to the Great Hall.

Hermione smirked at him. “The first time, it started when I was driving myself mad with researching a report I had already finished more than perfectly, but I just couldn't stop obsessing over it. An older Ravenclaw boy saw me and told me that Ravenclaws have that problem a lot and usually deal with it by shagging. And it worked. So, anytime I found myself obsessing over homework I'd already finished, I'd go find a Ravenclaw, and...” she trailed off with a shrug.

“That sounds... practical. I guess,” Harry murmured pensively. “So... do people do that sort of thing a lot? Shag just to relax or... have a little fun, or something? Even though it doesn't mean anything?”

“It was like that with Lavender,” Ron stated with a shrug. “Although _she_ didn't think so, but yeah. Most of the other boys in our year confessed to me that they dated at least one girl at some point so that they could get a little stress relief when they needed it. Despite not really wanting to be serious, I mean.”

“The girls are like that too, if we're being honest,” Hermione half whispered.

“Huh...” Harry exhaled in thought. “I guess I never realized that it didn't have to mean anything.”

Ron laughed softly. “Which probably explains why you  _ haven't _ made your way through every witch and wizard in the world!”

Harry chuckled even as he blushed. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

By this time, they had reached the Gryffindor table, and sat so they could eat some breakfast. Harry noticed Draco walk past them so that he could talk to McGonagall about his transfiguration essay for a minute before heading off to the Slytherin table. Harry then had to wonder if Draco had been behind them the entire time. It was a little shocking for Harry to realize that he was so used to Draco being around him these days that he didn't even get the little prickling up his spine that he used to get when in the same room as him.

Hmm...

 

***

 

Ginny wasn't best pleased to learn that Ron had invited himself and Hermione to Grimmauld Place for the weekend, but since she  _ also _ was able to spend the weekend with Harry – hopefully in his bed – she didn't complain too much. The first night, Harry cooked up a big dinner (simple spag bol), and they laughed, talked, joked around, and got fairly pissed off a couple bottles of wine. Then Ginny dragged Harry to bed and shagged his brains out.

The next day, Saturday, they went to the tattoo wizard and Harry got a bold and colorful snake tattooed up the entire length of his right leg. It was only slightly wavy – as if slithering – to begin with, but once the wizard finished, it came to life. The snake decided that Harry's entire leg was his territory, and wandered around as he (or she) liked.

Hermione had the wizard make the Japanese Golden Ray Lily on her foot permanent, getting as close as possible to the unique colors that Snape had used originally. She debated eventually coming in to have  _ all _ of her inked tats made permanent, but then decided that she'd pick her favorites and come back at a later date to have them done permanently. That way, as the others faded, she'd have room to get more new ones if she wanted. She  _ really _ loved getting new tats, and sort of wished they could  _ all _ be permanent for exactly as long as she wished so that she could eventually have new ones done. Which was what had happened with her inked tattoos, but now... Now she had to be a little extra choosy about what she got because it was forever. Even so, she loved tattoos and wanted to eventually cover her whole body in them.

Ginny got a tiny snitch on her left wrist that she could tap on to make it go flying, and then she could have fun chasing it around her forearm. And Ron decided that a small Jack Russel Terrier puppy romping around just above his right ankle was perfect. They all decided to put a lot more thought into that matching tattoo idea of Hermione's before agreeing to anything.

That night, they had a barbecue, got mildly drunk again, and then went to bed. Harry rather liked this mini vacation from school. He was having fun, more or less acting like a kid, and didn't need to worry about anything. Except Malfoy.

All Sunday, Harry couldn't stop thinking about the gorgeous blond prat. They returned to Hogwarts after lunch so that they'd have time to finish up their homework. Ginny walked with them all the way to the entrance to the Eighth Year Common Room, and then gave Harry a racy kiss before joyfully skipping off to show her new tattoo to all her friends.

The golden trio entered their Common Room – Harry holding the door open when he realized that Draco had once again been walking right behind them. As usual, Draco and Harry didn't say anything to each other, nor did they give any real indication that they even  _ noticed _ the other – aside from Harry holding the door open for him.

Ron, who was wearing a pair of shorts, proudly showed off his tattoo to Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Padma and Parvati drifted closer to get a good look too.

“Aww!” Parvati purred as the puppy romped around playfully pretending to bite Ron's ankle. “It's so cute!”

Ron chuckled. “It's my Patronus, so being cute is just a bonus.”

Padma raised a brow at Hermione. “Did you get anything? I can't  _ imagine _ you have anywhere on your body  _ left _ to put a new tattoo!”

Since Hermione was wearing a dress that was nearly full length with sleeves, it wasn't immediately obvious that she had tattoos. She smiled at Padma and lifted her skirt high enough to show her legs to her knees. “As you can see, my previous tattoos aren't actually permanent, so they're fading.” She held out her right leg to show off the garden-like design that really was fading. Then she slipped off her sandal. “So I had my Lily redone.”

“Can I see your snake again?” Padma asked with a smile.

Hermione responded by putting her right foot down and lifting her left one. The little snake zoomed around her ankle as if torn between trying to hide and trying to show off at least a little.

Parvati grinned at Harry suggestively. “Did  _ you _ get a tattoo, Harry?”

Harry chuckled and gave her a small smile in return. “As it happens, I did.”

Parvati scrutinized him as if mentally undressing him and inspecting every inch of his body for the mentioned art. “Can we see it?”

This had the unintended effect of prompting the rest of the Eighth Years to gather around for a good look too. Harry blushed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, well, I'd have to take off my trousers, and I'm not wearing any pants.”

“We don't mind at all,” Padma and Parvati assured him with encouraging smiles.

“I bet!” Ron snorted in amusement.

Harry twisted to look at first the front, and then the back of his very tight denim trousers. He wasn't entirely certain that he could get them off so easily. They hugged his hips and arse like a jealous lover. However, the legs were loose enough, so maybe it wouldn't be too hard after all.

With a shrug, Harry decided that his tee shirt hung low enough to mostly preserve his modesty – which, honestly, he didn't care about. Strange, but true. Being naked just sounded more comfortable – whether other people were in the room or not. He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, then removed them entirely. Then he held his leg out just slightly to show off his much larger snake.

“Ooo...” Parvati drooled in appreciation. “It's gorgeous!” Nearly everyone murmured in agreement.

From the back of the crowd, where he was trying to pretend like he didn't care about the show in the slightest, Draco couldn't suppress a soft moan of lust. He was dead certain that the first time Harry stripped off and strutted about their room while getting ready for a shower or to change, Draco was going to spontaneously combust. Or maybe bite his lip clean off. Or run into the bathroom and wank himself raw. In any case, it was going to be hard to see Harry looking so very hot and keep his hands to himself.

After allowing everyone a good look, Harry pulled his trousers back on, and then sat at the table with Ron and Hermione to discuss their homework. For some reason, the fact that Harry had actually showed off – for once – meant that no one stared at him like he was a celebrity caught off guard in their midst. It was a huge improvement in Harry's opinion.

Still not feeling all that welcome, Draco silently walked to his shared bedroom. He would study there as he always did. But first, since he was more than likely going to be alone for a while, he planned to lay in his bed and have a nice long wank to images of Harry naked. And tattooed.  _ Mmmmmm _ ..... And snogging Draco.

 

A couple hours later, Harry entered the room to find Draco quietly studying. Feeling like things were  _ never _ going to change between them, Harry simply sighed and ignored his urge to pounce on Draco and demand kisses. Instead, he grabbed a pinch of floo powder and tossed it in the fireplace.

“Dudley's flat!”

Harry looked around cautiously to make sure that Dudley didn't have company that would freak out at the sight of a head in the fire. To his relief, Dudley was alone, sitting on his sofa, watching a game of cricket on the telly. He was also roaring in support of one of the players.

“Come on! Score damn it! Scor – SCORE!” Dudley jumped up in glee.

Harry laughed. “I suppose now is a bad time.”

“Hiya Harry, no, the game is over now,” Dudley informed him with a highly chuffed grin. “I just won 200 pounds!”

“Good for you!” Harry congratulated. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

Dudley shrugged, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Nice. I had Donna over studying and...” he shrugged again.

Harry grinned. “She must like you a lot.”

Dudley chuckled. “Seems that way.”

“I'm happy for you,” Harry said honestly. 

Dudley was relieved that Harry wasn't teasing him. “If we're still together by time we graduate, I think I might ask her to marry me.”

“Wow! That's... that's a big step!” Harry exclaimed in surprise.

“Yeah, but, it's the _right_ step. I think,” Dudley replied with a frown of thought.

Harry sighed a bit morosely.

“What's wrong?” Dudley wondered.

It was Harry's turn to shrug. “Well... My parents got together in Hogwarts and got married not too long after graduating. They stayed together until they died. And even  _ your _ parents married young and have been together ever since. I always assumed that that's just the way things are supposed to be.”

“Yeah...?” Dudley asked slowly, not understanding the problem.

“So I always thought that doing things like shagging was supposed to be, er... important, I suppose. Done only with someone you planned to marry, or at least loved – or something like that – but suddenly, it seems like everyone is telling me that it doesn't really mean anything after all. That it's simply something to do when you're stressed or in a playful mood or just plain _bored_.”

Dudley was fairly embarrassed by the conversation now, but pushed past it. He rubbed the back of his neck, blushing a little. “I suppose that it can be. But it can  _ also _ mean something. But... I think that you don't  _ have _ to marry someone just because you shagged them. Is this about that girl? What's her name? Ginny?”

“Yes. And no. Ginny told me that she's fine with it if I don't want to be in a serious relationship. She still wants to be friends with benefits, and part of me likes and understands this, but the other part of me is just so damned confused!”

“About what?” Dudley asked curiously.

“About everything!” Harry roared, flinging out his hands to emphasize his point. “About: If I plan to marry her, then why don't I want to be in an official relationship with her? If I _don't_ plan to marry her, then how can I just do what she wants and be friends with benefits? And she's not even all of it. There's … someone else … that I sort of like. I think. I don't even know! And I can't figure it out because this person doesn't want me. I mean, officially. I could apparently have a good shag, but... I don't think that's what I want.”

Harry sighed and put his head in his hands.

Dudley tilted his head side to side to look at his cousin. “Well... there's no law that says we  _ have _ to marry young. So, why not stop thinking about all of this in terms of marriage, and just see what happens?”

Harry sighed again. “That's the thing, Dudley. I  _ want _ to get married. I want to have kids, and I don't want to wait forever to have them. I guess I just feel like putting any effort into anything that is  _ not _ a solid relationship working toward marriage is a waste of time.”

“So...” Dudley was confused all over again. “What does that mean? Are you going to propose to your girl?”

Harry shook his head. “No. If I proposed to her now, I'd never know if it was because I actually want to marry her, or if I just wanted to get married and she was ready and willing.”

Dudley frowned in thought for a moment. “So, why not play with that other one a bit? Even if it isn't working toward marriage, at least then you'll hopefully be able to figure out how you feel. You might not be so confused. You might actually realize that it's not as good as Ginny.”

Harry sat up in astonishment. “That's... actually a really good idea! Thanks Dudley.”

“No problem,” Dudley replied with a small smile. “I'm just glad that I don't have such problems with Donna. I like her, she likes me, and we have far too many other things to worry about right now. If we're still together later on, then I'll know it was meant to be.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “It was nice talking to you. I should probably go finish my homework,” he said with a smile.

“Good luck!” Dudley wished.

“You too,” Harry bade in return just before he pulled his head out of the fire.

Humming softly, Harry decided that he preferred to shower first. So he stripped off and tossed his clothes in the dirty laundry basket. Just as he took a step toward the bathroom, someone knocked on the door to their room.

“Harry,” Hermione called out.

“Yeah,” Harry called out in return. “Come in. I'm just getting ready to take a shower.

Hermione came in and shut the door behind her. “I brought the homework you asked me to look over. I'm impressed by how well you're doing this year.”

Harry chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, well, now that I no longer have a mad man in my head, it seems so much easier to concentrate.”

“I always wondered about that,” Hermione murmured speculatively. “It was obvious when your scar was hurting why you had a hard time concentrating, but the rest of the time didn't seem much easier, and I always had to wonder if it was because he was in your head.” She brushed some of his hair out of his face and smiled at him. “I'm glad it's easier now.”

“So much easier! Although, I still don't really see the point behind transfiguration or potions,” he admitted.

“You'll need both to be an Auror – although even I have to wonder about the potions part. You'd think that would be a specialized branch. That said, you mentioned maybe being a Healer, and you'd need potions for that too,” she pointed out. “I think you could be good at them if you wanted. After all, your mother was brilliant at potions and your grandfather earned the Potter fortune by inventing Sleekeasy's hair potion.”

“Hang on, how do you know that? I had no idea!” Harry blurted out in astonishment.

Hermione frowned as she thought this over. “Well... Oh! I researched the potion before I used it back in Fourth Year and learned that it was invented by Fleamont Potter. It wasn't until later on that I learned that, hmm... I think I read a family tree or something. Anyway, I learned that Fleamont and Euphemia Potter had James Potter – your dad – when they were in their fifties, and that's why he was an only child.”

“And you're just telling me this now?” Harry asked incredulously.

“I didn't tell you before?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Not that I remember,” Harry grumbled.

“Oh... Sorry. I guess I thought you knew,” she murmured apologetically. “Anyway, since you're all ready for a shower, I'll leave. Unless you want me to take a picture of your tattoo first.”

“That's a great idea!” Harry burst out excitedly. “Then we can put the picture in the album with all of yours.”

Hermione dug around in the tiny purse she always had dangling from her left wrist. With a tiny exclamation of triumph, she pulled out her wizarding camera. It was a newer model that combined the latest muggle technology with wizarding photo magic.

“How do I get him to hold still?” Harry wondered as he watched the snake slithering spirals up and down his leg.

“Try casting a return spell,” Hermione suggested.

“A what?”

Hermione laughed. “Here: Returnus!”

Sure enough, Harry's tattooed snake was pulled to its original position, where it wiggled until Hermione cast an Immobulus on it. She took a couple of clear pictures, and then ended her spells so that the snake could roam freely again, taking more pictures of it.

“There, I think I got some good ones.”

“Did you get pictures of _your_ snake?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I had Ron take them,” Hermione replied. “But I'd actually like more pictures of the rest of them. They're fading so much...” she sighed a bit sadly. “Plus, I think it would be interesting to document exactly how long it takes them to disappear altogether.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed, holding his hand out for the camera.

Hermione stripped off her full length but light and airy dress to reveal that she wasn't wearing anything under it.

“And you were nagging _me_ about not wearing pants!” Harry pointed out with a wry smirk.

Hermione laughed. “I didn't have anything clean to put on after this weekend! I usually wear them.”

“Alright, which one do you want to start with?” Harry asked, looking at her through the camera.

“This one on my right breast,” she stated decisively. “It's my favorite next to the Lily on my foot.”

“Is that the next one you're going to have made permanent?” Harry asked as he took a picture of the replica of her wand writing the words: _I may not know it all but I'm still smarter than you._

“Yep,” Hermione confirmed. She then pointed to her left breast. “But I'm probably going to let this one fade away and replace it with something else.”

“I didn't realize you liked snakes that much,” Harry murmured as he took a picture of the snake winding its way from her bellybutton – where its tail was wrapped around itself to circle her bellybutton – all the way up to her left breast, where it appeared to be biting her with sharp fangs.

“This one was his idea. I just went along with it because I liked to be drawn on and I figured he could erase it and draw something else if I didn't like it. But I liked it enough to keep it. As for my new one, I just really liked the idea of a magical tattoo that could slither around as it pleased,” she explained.

Harry photographed the garden winding around her right leg next, having her spread her legs and turn around as necessary. Then he took a few pictures of the portrait on her back.

“Hmm... your otter and those initials are still fairly vivid compared to the rest,” Harry remarked.

“It is?” Hermione asked as she tried to look over her shoulder at the picture on her back. “I didn't realize that. As for his initials, I simply assumed he added some actual magic to them to make them stick.”

“You know, I figured out who he was,” Harry informed her quietly.

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips. “Please keep it to yourself. I don't want anything to tarnish his memory.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I could see McGonagall trying to hex his portrait if she found out.”

They both giggled at the mental images of this until Harry felt a prickling up his spine. He turned to find Draco blatantly watching them in a combination of fascination, amusement, and bafflement that they were both basically strutting naked in front of him. How in the bloody hell had he forgotten that Draco was there?!

Hermione followed Harry's line of sight and blushed lightly when she realized that she had also forgotten he was in the room. He was just so quiet and forgettable when he wasn't trying to be an arse!

“Er... Sorry for basically flashing you,” she murmured.

“I don't mind. The art is worth looking at,” Draco informed her with a shrug.

Hermione bent over and picked up her dress. “I should probably get back before Ron assumes that you've snatched me and are holding me hostage in your sleep.”

Harry laughed. “That reminds me, I apparently had a nightmare about the time that Nagini bit me and I nearly died, only in my nightmare, it was  _ you _ she was biting and I had to save you, instead of the other way around.”

“Is that what that dream's about?” Hermione asked as she pulled her dress on over her head. “I didn't hear enough to know – the nights I heard you calling out my name and got snatched into bed with you. I'd always arrive after whatever was happening happened, so I thought maybe you were having nightmares about the day I was tortured.”

Harry flinched. “I hate to sound cold, but I was actually too out of it that day to have nightmares about it. I had Voldemort being vicious in my head, and Ron panicking, and then Dobby died. I sort of forget that you were having a bad day too.”

Hermione gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “That's quite alright. You have so many other things to have nightmares about that I'm actually relieved that my torture isn't on the list.”

“Er... Sorry about that. I couldn't do anything to stop it,” Draco murmured self-consciously. He was now staring at his hands in his lap. The expression of anxiety on his face was so adorable that Harry wanted to kiss it off him.

“I know,” Hermione acknowledged softly. “It was completely your aunt's fault.”

“It's one of the things _I_ have nightmares about,” Draco admitted.

Hermione crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “You don't have to. I don't blame you at all. And maybe if you ever find yourself in a similar situation in the future, you'll be able to stop it.”

Draco looked up at her, not quite able to believe that she wasn't angry at him. She smiled at him sympathetically, and then gave him a hug. She even kissed his cheek!

“I've watched how you've acted this year, Draco, and I believe you've changed. I even sort of miss your confidence and spirit,” she confessed. 

Draco smirked at her. “Oh, I still have them! I've just kept my mouth shut as much as possible to avoid...”

It was Hermione's turn to smirk at him. “To avoid provoking everyone when you'd have no one on your side to protect you?”

Draco simply nodded in confirmation.

“I'd protect you,” Harry murmured.

Draco scoffed a bit derisively. “You already do, don't you realize that? Just sitting next to you in class makes people leave me alone. Same with sharing a room. No one dares to do more than grumble about me because they don't want to risk upsetting your need to rescue everything you can, even me.”

Harry looked to Hermione to see if Draco was right, and the way she looked a little too knowing for a moment before looking away told him that it was true.

“I'm fairly sure that's why McGonagall put the two of you together,” Hermione murmured.

Harry sighed, frustrated all over again. He ran his hands through his hair, and then shook his head. He had no idea what to do with that information, so he spun around and stalked toward the bathroom.

“I'm taking my shower, and then I'm going to bed! I don't think I can handle thinking about anything else today!”

Hermione chuckled softly. “Alright Harry, good night.”

“Night!” Harry called out to her over his shoulder as he gave her a short wave. “Love ya!”

“Love you too,” Hermione responded as she walked toward the exit. She stopped short as she reached out for the doorknob. “Oi, do you want me to talk to Ginny for you?”

“Would you?!” Harry asked avidly. He couldn't believe that she would offer to get between him and her best girl friend.

“Yeah, it'll stop her from pestering Ron and me.”

“Merlin's funky armpits! You're the best, Mione!”

“I know,” she replied with a chuffed grin. A moment later, she was gone and Harry was in the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Draco had a lot to think about. It was looking more and more likely that Harry was utterly arse over tits for Hermione. He'd even admitted to loving her! They were very comfortable around each other, and Hermione seemed to trust Harry with her life. If Ron ever broke up with her or if he died or something, Draco was certain that the two would get married practically the next day. [And maybe travel the world meeting people and having adventures.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10299263)

And then there was the whole mind-boggling concept of Hermione not being angry at Draco. That she'd seemed to forgive him! He had to wonder why, and more importantly, had she forgiven him first and talked Harry into it too, or had Harry been first? Which was assuming that Harry had actually forgiven him and wasn't just trying to put on a good show of it in order to be a role-model for letting go of enmity and moving past the war.

Thinking about that made his head hurt, so Draco decided to push those thoughts away. He was also done with his homework. Actually, he had been done with it since last night, and had spent most of the day simply reading spell books that caught his interest. He'd also taken a long bath earlier since he'd had time and nothing better to do. Thus, he had no reason to wait to change into his pajamas.

As he changed, he thought about Harry's conversation with his cousin. It sounded like Harry was upset because he wanted to get married as soon as possible, but wasn't sure  _ who _ he wanted to marry. It  _ also _ sounded like Harry – rather incredibly – didn't believe in sex before marriage. Draco seriously wished he could hear the other side of the conversation. What exactly had Harry's cousin told him that had put Harry in such a good mood for a few minutes?

With a sigh, he got comfortable in bed with a book – his favorite and oft reread book about a boy hero and his foolish quest to save the world from evil. He had practically memorized it, so sometimes, reading it could help him get to sleep. He was only on the second chapter when Harry emerged from the bathroom.

Harry was humming softly as he located his favorite sleeping pants. Then he looked over at Draco curiously. It was unusual for Draco to go to bed before Harry.

“You don't need to take a shower tonight?”

“I had a bath earlier,” Draco informed him off handedly.

“Oh...” Harry bit his lip and thought this over. Then he crossed the room and held out a hand to Draco. “Then... why not just come to bed with me? You're going to end up there anyway once I start screaming in my sleep.”

“Er... yeah. Why not?” Draco responded, wondering whether Harry'd still have a nightmare if Draco was already in bed with him. He scooted to the side. “Actually, come here.”

Smiling, Harry got into Draco's bed. They got comfortable laying next to each other – despite the narrowness and lack of space – before Harry slid an arm under Draco's neck and pulled Draco so that his head was laying on Harry's shoulder.

“There, that's better,” Harry murmured.

Draco snorted in amusement. “Hufflepuff!”

“So... Is that your way of saying that Slytherins don't cuddle?” Harry asked curiously.

“Not really,” Draco answered with a shrug. “Slytherins tend to tie their partner up – unless they're the one being tied up – then they play until both partners are exhausted. Then they go their separate ways, passing out in their own beds. Unless one of them needs aftercare, in which case, the other one will stay nearby to keep an eye on him or her. However, in that situation, generally there's a few other Slytherins around to lend a hand if necessary. Despite what all you other houses think, we Slytherins take care of our own.”

“Er... Hang on, are you saying that Slytherins are all into bondage and domination?” Harry asked in fascination.

“Of _course_ we are! We live in a dungeon after all! Did you honestly think that we did nothing but hold hands and snog on special occasions?” Draco asked in a teasingly derisive tone of voice.

“I suppose that I never really thought about it at all,” Harry murmured in thought. “I mean, I knew that Gryffindors tended to pair up by Seventh Year, so I guess I just assumed that it was the same for all the other houses. But apparently, Ravenclaws have a habit of shagging each other when they need to stop obsessing over homework, so now that I _am_ thinking about it, they sound more like Slytherins in that aspect. Which must mean that Hufflepuffs are more like Gryffindors – pairing up almost permanently to shag when necessary.”

“Actually, I wouldn't put it past the Hufflepuffs to all be in one big cuddly relationship,” Draco remarked with a grin. “It's rather entertaining to think about when I'm alone in bed.”

“Really?” Harry asked, fascinated all over again. “That's... an option?”

“Why not?” Draco asked with a careless shrug. “It seems rather in character to me. Slytherins treat sex like a temporary and highly satisfactory contract. Gryffindors treat sex like it's a lifelong bond – even if it turns out to last only a few days or weeks. Ravenclaws treat sex like it's just a good strategy to keep their body and mind healthy enough to read and think as much as possible. Which makes me think that Hufflepuffs more than likely treat sex as something they do as a group so that they can help each other out, teach each other what to do, and make sure that _all_ of them end up happy.”

“That actually makes sense...” Harry murmured speculatively. “I'll have to ask Hermione to ask around and find out.”

“I'll hex you mute if you ever _dare_ tell anyone I said this, but I always thought that the Hufflepuff approach to sex – at least as I imagine it – seemed to make the most sense. It takes the best parts of the Slytherin approach – meaning pairing up temporarily with the goal to have as much fun as possible in any kinky way the couple desires – but then has the added stability of an underlying relationship where everyone knows they can just cuddle up in a big pile if they want.”

“Wait, so you want to be part of a big group of lovers? Like a family? Like – for example – you and me and oh... I don't know, eight women? And kids? _Merlin's hairy arse!_ That would be a lot of kids!” Harry blurted out as he imagined this.

Draco laughed – a pure and full laugh that Harry had never heard from the snarky pureblood before. “With the two of us and eight women, we'd probably start out with at least 12 kids and just keep adding a couple every few years until we had 18 or 20 of them! And then they'd all naturally have to have your last name in some form so that the public could fawn all over them, and the Daily Prophet would insist on having a regular column about it – they'd call it something fluffy like: [Growing Up Potter.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/502549)”

“It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that,” Harry muttered, upset because that actually sounded like a brilliant idea to Harry, but Draco was acting as if it was a mad dream that only an absolute nutter could think up. What was so wrong with wanting a big family?

Draco sobered up when he realized that Harry was brooding now. “I don't mean it to sound ridiculous. As I said, I think having a big relationship is a brilliant idea. I could decide each night who I want to shag based on what kink I want and who is into that, but I could  _ also _ have a big family. And my children wouldn't be only children. They'd have each other. I have no idea how many I'd actually want, but three or four sounds reasonable. Unfortunately, my parents are already planning out an arranged marriage for me, and I'll end up with the proper Heir and a spare – and maybe not even that. Our fortune is so enormous because it's been concentrated on a single Heir for generations.”

Harry thought this over for a moment. “Well, this probably comes as no surprise to you, but I've always loved the Weasley family. Having dinner with the entire family is just short of utter chaos, and I love it so much that I am terrified of the day that they stop considering me part of the family. I want to have a lot of kids someday – although probably not  _ quite _ as many as the Weasleys. I honestly can't imagine parenting that many kids at the same time. So maybe I have a couple, wait a few years, have a couple more, and so on until I'm just too old to want children as opposed to grandchildren.”

Draco yawned. He hadn't slept well at all when Harry was gone. His eyes fluttered closed even though he wanted to stay up longer and talk more. Especially since it was starting to sound like he and Harry had something in common after all. Harry stroked a hand up and down Draco's arm, and suddenly, he was out cold.

In the morning, Draco woke up while it was still dark out. At first, he simply lay still and enjoyed the warmth and safety of Harry's arms. Then he reluctantly had to admit that it was a bit  _ too _ warm. With it still being unseasonably warm for mid October, Draco wished he wasn't wearing his pajamas – even thought they were made from light and airy silk. They still retained heat enough to make him sweat.

Deciding that the only way he was going to escape the heat was to stop holding onto to Harry like an octopus – and vice versa – Draco cast a breath freshening charm on both of them. Then he kissed Harry and kept on kissing him until Harry was awake and moaning so happily it almost sounded like he was purring like a cat. This didn't immediately solve the problem, but Draco knew that it was only a matter of time before Harry pulled away.

They kissed so deeply that Draco quickly started to feel drunk. He and Harry seemed to be fighting an entire battle with their tongues. More than once, they both ran out of air completely and had to pull back and gasp in a huge breath before diving back in.

Harry had to seriously wonder if Draco was such an excellent kisser because of copious playing around in the dungeon. Meanwhile, Draco was dying to know if Harry and Ginny had kissed a lot more than Harry had claimed to have sex with her, because Harry seemed rather good at it. Which didn't seem likely for someone who had only shagged twice – then Draco's mind not so helpfully reminded him that they had just spent the weekend together and – presumably – shagged at least once. Probably a lot more than that.

This made Draco inexplicably jealous even as he had fun trying to imagine what they had done. Had they tried any sort of kink? Ginny tying Harry up made Draco moan in sheer longing. Harry tied up period made Draco feel like he could pump out an ocean without even touching his shaft! It was even more erotic when he pictured a long line of people waiting to take a turn with Harry. Some of them would spank or whip him. Some of them would force Harry to give them oral. At least one would bend Harry over and bugger him into the floor. And all the while, Draco would be standing next to Harry, holding a leash and exerting control over everything that happened. He'd watch and –

Salazar's enormous crooked prick! Draco nearly orgasmed right then and there! He moaned louder than ever, his breathing now so fast that he almost couldn't catch his breath.

Harry decided that Draco was going to pass out of he didn't calm down a little, so he switched to licking and sucking on Draco's neck. When he saw the first small bruise form, Harry felt an electric thrill go through him. He felt his eyes go wide and his groin jump in his pants.

“ _You are mine_ ,” he hissed in parseltongue. _“Mine and no one else's. I will hex anyone who looks at you. Curse anyone who dares to kiss you. Murder anyone who puts their hands on you!_ ”

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he pulled back to rest his head on Draco's chest. The things he just said were... intense. And... Harry was hit with a sensation like a ton of bricks landing on him because he had meant every word. He desperately  _ needed _ to get away. He needed to hide somewhere until he could mentally and maybe physically slap some sense into himself.

However, Draco decided that it was time to kiss again. He forced Harry to look at him, and then took possession of that red and swollen mouth. Harry felt a shudder go through his entire body from the need to make Draco his once and for all. Taking a deep breath, he surrendered to Draco's will.

For about two minutes. Then Harry impatiently pushed Draco's pajama bottoms down just enough to free the long and glorious shaft that Harry couldn't actually see just yet, but he could feel. Draco inhaled a gasp and dug his fingers into Harry's shoulder so hard that it would probably leave bruises. Harry quickly fumbled to free his own shaft – which was a little bit shorter but noticeably thicker. With a mutter, he conjured enough oil to lubricate them both and make the friction feel smooth and heavenly.

Both of them cried out, their breaths hot on each other's faces. Their eyes rolled back into their heads and they ground together even as Harry wrapped his hand around both their shafts the best he could and stroked. It didn't take long at all. Draco erupted first with a low groan of profound relief. When Harry realized this, all his breath deserted him and he followed suit, pumping out so much that he was half certain that his body would be completely empty when he was done.

“ _Mine_...” Harry hissed in parseltongue as he slumped half onto Draco. He didn't even realize that he was licking and sucking on Draco's long and slender neck again. Draco moaned softly, which turned into a happy hum as Harry's sucking made Draco's blood feel like it was singing – but not in an intense way that would lead to another round – although it _could_ , Draco supposed. No; this felt more... relaxed... and content. And really _really_ nice.

He was able to completely forget how hot and sweaty he was and doze back off for a while. They both did, still snuggled up like puppies. Harry's lips were still pressed to Draco's neck even though he was no longer actively sucking.

They were woke up a while later by a loud knock at the door. “Harry! Are you ready to go to breakfast?”

Harry groaned, summoned his wand from wherever the fuck it was, and then sleepily cast a Patronus. “Tell Ron: Sorry mate; literally just woke up. Go on; I'll meet you in the great hall in about 20 minutes.”

The large ephemeral stag nodded at Harry in acknowledgment before running through the door. Blessed silence assured him that Ron and Hermione had followed his suggestion. Harry kissed Draco, and then hummed happily as he extricated himself from the bed and wandered into the bathroom for a relieving slash. He then washed his face with cool water, ran his hands through his hair until it gave up and lay somewhat flatish, and stripped off while he contemplated what to wear.

Draco watched him in amusement, wondering if he should hate the fact that Harry was able to get away with looking so disheveled at all times. It literally took Harry less than five minutes to get ready in the morning! Less than twenty to go to bed at night. It just wasn't fair! Draco had to spend a few hours on his skincare routine each night and at least a half an hour on his hair each morning.

Harry pulled on a pair of comfortable – thanks to Hermione's spell – trousers that made his arse look fabulous (in Draco's opinion), and a plain tee shirt in Gryffindor red. He layered his school robes on over it, scratched his head – completely messing up the semblance of order previously achieved – and walked towards the door.

“See you later, Malfoy,” he murmured pleasantly.

“Later,” Draco returned with a smile.

A little more than a half an hour later, when Draco entered the great hall and made his way toward the Slytherin table, everyone who saw him began to whisper in speculation. It was rare for anyone to forget the healing charms to get rid of love bites,  _ especially _ Slytherins! And yet, Draco had a dark and impressive one that frankly made most people jealous. Well, the older students anyway.

Those from Slytherin eyed him with a light frown. They had half shunned him so far – despite still being their unofficial official Prince – because he had seemingly betrayed their House during the final battle by defecting. It actually wasn't clear when or how he had defected, but Harry Potter had spoken on his behalf during the trial, so they were all convinced that he must have been secretly working for Harry for a while prior to that. Possibly  _ years _ considering how much he publicly acted against Harry to deflect suspicion.

The rest of the Houses weren't wondering about intrigue so much as they were just  _ dying _ to know who Draco had shagged. While true that not a single one of them wanted to befriend such a treacherous snake, and so more or less shunned him as well, they all still thought he was a gorgeous bastard and more than one secretly wanted to get into his pants. Bets started flying back and forth as to who the lucky party had been, but strangely, not one person considered that  _ Harry _ might be on the list of possible suspects. The prevailing theory was that Draco had met up with Blaise or Pansy at some point during the weekend.

Ron and Hermione both took one good look at Draco, shifted their eyes to Harry, and then silently continued working on the last of Ron's homework as they waited for Harry to finish up his last few bites. They figured that they'd see something to confirm their suspicions during class – such as Harry and Draco actually talking. But no. The two of them were as silent in class as they ever were, barely even acknowledging that they were in the same room, let alone sitting next to each other. It was rather frustrating!

Ron took to staring at Harry. Not on purpose, but because he was chomping at the bit to just ask his best friend if it had really happened. Harry felt the intense gaze at one point and looked over to find Ron looking at him as if trying to figure out the mysteries of the universe. Ron glanced at Draco for a split second, and then back at Harry, clearly asking:  _ Well??? _

Harry slowly smiled, turned to look a Draco for a moment – which made Draco blush ever so slightly – and then looked back at Ron. He gave his best friend a smug smirk before winking.

“I _knew_ it!” Ron burst out into the silence of a classroom determinedly working on a complex potion.

“Knew what, Mr. Weasley?” Slughorn asked curiously from where he was hovering over a student who needed extra help.

“Er... that I grabbed the wrong ingredients from the supply cupboard,” Ron muttered, hastily coming up with a plausible cover story. “I nearly caused an explosion...”

“Oh dear,” Slughorn tutted. “Lucky you caught it in time. I suggest that you go gather up the _right_ ingredients.”

Ron simply nodded, picked up a few ingredients at random, and went to the cupboard to exchange them for exactly the same things.

Draco was blushing a bit redder, but only Harry bothered to look at him to see this. He was tempted to kiss Draco in front of everyone and call him adorable. Not even the certainty that he'd get hexed within an inch of his life stopped him from leaning closer to Draco for a moment, but the thought that everyone else would bully Draco did. Instead, Harry hissed in parseltongue: “ _ You look so adorable that I wish I could kiss you in front of our entire class and shock the bloody hell out of everyone _ .”

“What was that, Harry, my boy?” Slughorn asked, deeply curious.

“I said that my best mate has been mixing things up all morning,” Harry murmured, lying shamelessly.

“Oh...” Slughorn muttered in disappointment. After that, the class was as quiet as usual.

 

***

 

By the time Christmas hols were approaching, Draco couldn't decide if he was the happiest person in the world, or half depressed. On the plus side, he and Harry were spending all their spare time kissing and getting each other off – especially in the mornings. Which was glorious on so many levels. On the other hand, Harry wouldn't shag him. Or vice versa. There was a distinct lack of shagging.

Still, they were doing everything else, and it felt better than anything Draco had ever experienced. He didn't  _ want _ to complain – and risk Harry deciding to stop – but... He was dead certain that this was because Harry was a Gryffindor prude who didn't think that Draco was worth getting serious about, and thus, sex was out of the question. The thought was depressing.

The hands down  _ worst _ part of all was that Draco was... more than half in love with Harry. It wasn't simple lust on his part. Yes, he wanted Harry so much that it took his breath away, but he was also driving himself  _ mad _ with thoughts of the future. Of marriage and kids and all the things he knew Harry wanted. Just...

Not with him.

It was almost enough to make Draco want to  _ murder _ himself. And wouldn't that just be ironic? He survived a few years of the Dark Lord threatening his life, threatening his parents, and forcing him to do things he  _ really _ didn't want to do – much less think about – only for Harry to provoke him into killing himself to escape terminal pining and unrequited love.

Sighing morosely, he got out of bed. It was the last day before most of the students planned to leave for the Hols and Draco didn't want to spend it curled up with Harry only for Harry to leave him first thing in the morning to go spend the next two weeks with his Weasleys and – more specifically – Ginny.

“Problem?” Harry asked lazily. They had spent at least an hour running their mouths all over each other, so it made sense for Harry to be lethargic and half asleep.

“No problem,” Draco replied with a shrug, which was a blatant lie. “It's just that I was invited to the traditional party in the Slytherin Common Room, and I plan to go. It's the first time this year that any of my House mates have asked me to spend time with them.”

“Oh... well, that's good,” Harry murmured.

Draco chuckled softly. “Yeah, I think so too. I'm just not sure yet if they want me to preside over the playing – since I have the most experience – or if they want to tie me up and take turns punishing me for everything they think I did wrong. Both could be equally delightful, if I'm honest.”

Harry sat up and stared at Draco as he inspected his armoire for something suitable to wear. “What?”

Draco spotted a pair of black leather trousers in his armoire that made his arse look like it belonged to an honest to Salazar sex god. “I usually preside over the playing – or at least I did in Sixth and Seventh Year. I love watching the ones who are just barely old enough to consent be tied up for the first time. It's beautiful!”

“Er...” 

“And then I command those I know are good at it to begin the whipping. We really put them through their paces! It always reminds me of my first time... I was shocked by just how much I enjoyed being tied up and used like a two knut whore,” Draco reminisced with a fond smile.

Harry took a deep breath in and held it until he no longer felt like he was going to start something on fire just by glaring at it. “Oh... er... Have fun.”

“I plan to!” Draco purred as he pulled on an outfit so sexy that it should be considered illegal in most parts of the world. Over that, he layered his school robes to hide how scandalous he looked. Then he charmed his hair perfect, and glamoured his complexion to look noticeably hotter without being obvious as to why.

It was all Harry could do to  _ not _ pounce on Draco as he exited their room! He wanted nothing more than to run after him, throw him over his shoulder, and carry him straight back to bed. And then tie him to it so he couldn't just roll back out and escape. His breathing got rather fast and his eyes stung from the threat of tears.

To take his mind off of every possible thing Draco could be doing that night, not to mention plotting to murder the entire upper half of Slytherin House, Harry trudged out to the Common Room, not caring that he was only wearing his sleeping pants and a ratty old tee shirt. He found the rest of the Eighth Years laughing and chatting as they got ready to go to parties in their individual houses. Hermione spotted him looking miserable and rushed to intercept him before anyone else could ask what was wrong. She had a strong feeling that the fact that Draco had just traipsed out of the Common Room looking rather eager had a lot to do with Harry's current mood.

Harry plopped his head onto her shoulder and did his best to simply breathe. He felt like he was drowning! Ron startled him a little when he rubbed Harry's back.

“What's wrong?” Ron asked in a whisper.

Hermione moved her lips silently so that no one could possibly hear her. “Draco left.”

Ron took a moment to piece this together in his head, but then he looked enlightened. “Oh...” While he had known that Harry was doing something with Draco, it wasn't until this exact moment that Ron realized that Harry had some serious feelings for the pointy git. He sighed in sympathy and continued to rub Harry's back until Harry felt a microscopic speck better.

“So... want to play a game of chess?” Ron asked.

“Sounds... good...” Harry murmured despondently. He knew he was lousy at it, but it was better than dwelling on things he didn't want to think about.

The Common Room slowly cleared out as everyone except the three of them left to their respective Houses. When they were finally alone, Hermione asked what she and Ron both wanted to know.

“What happened?” 

“Did you fight?” Ron added.

“No...” Harry half whispered because talking felt like too much. “Nothing like that. He just went to a party in the Slytherin Dungeons.”

Ron frowned in confusion. “So.....?”

Harry felt like crying again but took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “So, apparently, Slytherins are a bunch of kinky bastards who tie each other up and have something like an orgy, and Draco says that he usually presides over the playing to make sure no one gets too hurt. Although, this year, he suspects that they'll all want to tie  _ him _ up and punish him for what they consider a betrayal.”

“ _Oh_...” Hermione murmured, sounding highly interested by this concept. “I wonder what we'd have to do to get invited, but well, there won't be a next year for us, and it's already far too late this year.” She then stroked her chin in thought as she looked toward the ceiling. “Actually, I heard that some of the Ravenclaws host a play party in their Seventh Year boys' dorm. I was invited to that once, but declined because I didn't think they were serious.”

“The older Gryffindors usually just pair up and cast privacy charms on the beds in the boys dorm – or at least that's what Neville told me since we missed our Seventh Year,” Ron added.

“Draco says that the entire upper half of Hufflepuff more than likely considers themselves one big relationship, so they probably have a play party too,” Harry informed him.

“I think that might be true,” Hermione murmured. “Susan and Hannah said something to each other when they didn't realize I could hear them that could possibly confirm that theory. Something about the group meeting up in the Seventh Year boys' dorm.”

“So, everyone is playing around but us,” Harry theorized.

“We could, if you want,” Hermione offered with a nod of agreement from Ron.

Harry thought about this for a few long moments before slowly shaking his head. “No... I think I...” He held his breath for a moment. “Love...” he said faintly. “Him. Draco. I think I love him, and I wouldn't feel right... I...” He roared in frustration. “I'm in agony at the thought of him playing around with others! I want to go murder everyone at that party!”

“Oh Harry...” Hermione murmured in sympathy. She was now the one rubbing his back.

The three of them stayed in their Common Room playing various games for the next few hours. They talked and laughed enough to get Harry's mind off of Draco. Mostly. He was still there, but Harry wasn't dwelling on him. He didn't feel like turning into a dragon, going on a rampage, and starting everything on fire. Although he was still dead certain that he would murder someone if he caught them touching Draco.

Probably close to two in the morning, Neville walked into the Common Room – one of the few students who had bothered to return from their various parties.

“Er, Harry...” Neville interrupted them uncertainly. “There're a few Seventh Year Slytherins outside carrying Malfoy. He looks, er...”

Neville didn't need to finish his sentence because Harry was already running to see for himself. He burst out of the Common Room to find Draco slung between two sturdy boys. Draco was only semi conscious, and looked like he had been abused. His school robes were barely on him – as if thrown on at the last minute – and he appeared to be naked under them. Even his hair was a wild mess!

“What happened to him?!” Harry roared in alarm.

“He's still off in subspace,” one of the boys informed him. “We never leave anyone alone when they're in subspace, but we're all tired and want to get to bed. We were hoping that you would look after him. You are his roommate, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “What's subspace?”

“Ask him in the morning, it'll take too long to explain right now.”

“And you should probably wash him up a little because he's covered in, _well_...”

“And he's fussy about his personal hygiene,” the two Slytherins explained as they handed Draco over to Harry.

“If he gets shaky, feed him some more chocolate. Let him drink as much water as he wants, but not too much at once so he doesn't get sick.”

“Otherwise, just let him rest, and whatever you do, _don't_ cast any healing charms until he's awake and can consent to them, so that he doesn't react badly to unexpected magic.”

Harry now had Draco's arm slung over his shoulder and was fully supporting him. The two Slytherins gave Harry a just barely courteous wave as they walked away.

Harry didn't care that Ron, Hermione and Neville were watching him avidly. He tenderly stroked Draco's cheek with his free hand. “Alright there, Malfoy?”

“ _Harry_...” Draco exhaled reverently, sounding far away and slightly distorted. He couldn't focus on anything. “M'fine... Wonderful actually... brilliant... never better...” His words were all slow to emerge, slightly slurred, and still sounded soft and far away.

With a sigh of forced patience, Harry cast a lightening charm on Draco, scooped the infuriating sod into his arms, and then carried him toward their room. Ron offered to help, but stepped back in surprise when Harry growled at him menacingly. Hermione seemed to find this amusing. Neville looked extremely confused.

“ _Mine_!” Harry spat out in parseltongue as he stormed through the Common Room. His friends followed him until he slammed the door to his room in their faces.

Neville looked at Ron, both concerned and baffled. “The way Harry is acting, you'd think he was arse over tits for Malfoy and seething with jealousy.”

Ron chuckled. “You'd think, wouldn't you?”

Hermione shook her head. “He's not even trying to hide it. I think  _ he _ thinks that Draco will be bullied or something if they go public, so he's trying to hold back from anything  _ too _ overt in public, but it's been obvious to anyone with eyes for  _ ages _ .”

“Well I didn't notice,” Neville murmured, scrunching his face up in thought as he tried to remember anything weird happening.

Ron rolled his eyes. “The love bites, Nev. If Harry and Malfoy both remain cooped up in their room alone most of the time, who do you suppose gives them all those love bites?”

“Oh!” Neville exclaimed in sudden enlightenment. “I didn't even think about that. I just thought... Well... Ginny for Harry. And an unknown lover for Malfoy. But yeah... They both usually go to their room early and stay there – as far as I know anyway.”

“I'm fairly certain that they're still in the stage of the relationship where they both like each other, but aren't quite sure if they are ready to be together,” Hermione explained. “Plus, I think Harry's been holding back for some reason.”

Neville thought this over carefully. “I bet he doesn't think Malfoy will commit to him. After all, there's a lot of pressure on Malfoy to get married in the near future and have a pureblood Heir, right? And Malfoy doesn't really seem like the committing type. Well, at least not unless there's something worth a lot of galleons in it for him.”

“You're probably right,” Ron admitted. Then they returned to their rooms.

 

***

 

In the morning, Draco woke up feeling fabulous. He stretched his naked body like a cat and let out a loud yawn. “Ahhh, I feel like I could take on the world! I can't believe how much I needed that...”

It was when he sat up and scratched an itch on his neck that he had a feeling that something was not quite right. It took him a moment to realize that he was alone in his bed. He looked over to Harry's bed to find Harry giving him an utterly blank look.

“Something wrong?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Nope,” Harry answered flatly. 

“Okay...” Draco drawled slowly, not quite believing Harry. He slid out of bed and surveyed himself in his full length mirror. He was naked – he vaguely remembered Harry stripping him, cleaning him up a little, and putting him to bed. His body was covered in dark bruises and looked like he had been beaten to death – although he hadn't. He had simply been whipped, spanked, and used by every consenting member of Slytherin House that wanted him. Both boys and girls had 'forced' him to perform oral on them along with bottoming and topping until he lost all track of who was doing what.

He grinned at his reflection, purring lightly as he admired his body. “I probably need a bath before I go home, but I think I'll keep the bruises. They're rather pretty, don't you think?”

He turned to see Harry glaring at him for one second before erasing all expression from his face. “If you say so.”

“Seriously, what's wrong?” Draco wondered with a puzzled frown.

“Nothing,” Harry ground out, clearly lying. “I just didn't get any sleep last night and I'm really tired. I think I'll just get dressed and floo directly home so that I don't have to take the Express.”

Draco just knew that Harry was hiding something. He walked over and stroked Harry's cheek. “There's something else.”

Harry flung Draco's hand away. “You were carried back here last night acting like you were high and looking like they had just beat you half to death! I was  _ worried _ !!! And then this morning, you're acting like this is normal. Like you get beaten all the time!”

“Well not _all_ the time,” Draco replied with a shrug. “This was the first time this year, and I only had it happen once or twice each of the previous years. As I said, I'm normally the one _presiding_ over the beatings, but when they gave me a choice, I chose this because I _really_ needed to be able to just let go of everything for a while. I needed to get out of my head, and I knew that this would do exactly that.”

Draco tilted his head and gave Harry a curious look. “I like that you were worried, but you didn't need to be. Slytherins are  _ very _ big on consent – when it comes to sex anyway. We feel that it's far more fun to talk someone into doing what we want until they think it's their own idea. We don't force ourselves on anyone. So I  _ knew _ I'd be safe. I told you what might happen before I left. You don't honestly think I would have went to the party if I thought for a moment that they would do things to me I didn't want – do you?”

Harry let out a long suffering sigh of frustration. “I don't know! I've never done  _ anything _ like that before! From my perspective, it looked bad. I was ready to bring you to the Headmistress and have your entire House expelled!” He didn't mention that he had spent the entire night – even before Draco's return – plotting out the murder of each and every Sixth and Seventh Year Slytherin.

“Well, I'm glad you didn't,” Draco murmured with a tiny smile.

Harry ran a hand over the darkest bruise on Draco's chest. “Can't you see how bad this might look?”

Draco smiled – feeling positively elated that Harry was so concerned about him. “Well, I suppose that if I'd never heard about being beaten for pleasure before, I'd assume I'd been roughed up by thugs. But I assure you, I'm fine. Happy even.”

Harry exhaled all the air in his lungs, surrendering to his reassurance, thus feeling both relieved and jealous. “Alright. If you're happy...”

“I am,” Draco assured him, giving him a quick kiss as a reward for his concern. “Now I'd like to take a shower before I go eat breakfast. I'm rather looking forward to going home for Christmas this year. I think it might even come close to how Christmas used to be before... well...”

Harry gave into the impulse to give Draco a hug, but then let him go take his shower. He didn't want to see anyone at all at the moment, and so got dressed, even though he was so tired that he felt dead on his feet. When he heard the shower turn off, he grabbed his invisibility cloak and pulled it on, not wanting to have to talk to anyone at all at the moment, not even Draco. He still felt too raw and emotionally wrecked.

Draco emerged from the bathroom in a surprisingly short amount of time. He was still naked and using a towel to dry off. Thus, he wasn't really looking around.

“Oi Potter, how would you – huh...” Now that he was looking around, he didn't see Harry anywhere. “Must have flooed home after all.” Feeling inexplicably sad and lonely, Draco pulled on a pair of silk lined, charcoal colored wool trousers that made his arse look good even as he looked rather business like. He paired this with a crisp, white, brushed cotton button up shirt layered with a soft, sleeveless cashmere jumper in a shade of blue that made his gray eyes look warm and inviting.

With one last look at himself in the mirror to make sure that the charm on his hair was doing its job, Draco left the room. Harry followed him with the practiced ease of someone who was long used to walking around under an invisibility cloak. They made it to the Great Hall in surprisingly little time.

Harry stood next to the wall closest to Draco and watched as he was greeted by members of his House like a returning hero. Unlike the entire year until now, they not only  _ didn't _ avoid him, but they went out of their way to draw him into their conversations. Looking genuinely happy, the Slytherin Prince was firmly back on his throne. It made Harry happy for him even as he was still heartsick.

After breakfast, Draco returned to the Eighth Year Common Room. He needed to pack up a little before heading off to the Hogwarts Express. Almost right away, he ran into Ron and Hermione – who were also returning from breakfast.

“Morning Malfoy,” Ron murmured cautiously. “We were just coming to get Harry since he wasn't at breakfast.”

“How are you?” Hermione added in concern as she looked him over. There was no evidence on his face or hands – not that there had been to begin with – and even she realized that the fading love bites visible on Draco's neck were from Harry and not the previous night.

“Brilliant,” Draco informed her with a genuine smile. “As for Potter, I think he must have gone home. He said he was going to, and then he was gone when I got out of the shower, so...” he trailed off with a shrug.

“He was quite worried about you, you know,” Hermione stated in a gentle tone.

Draco nodded in acknowledgment. “He explained that to me, and I'm sure that it probably looked alarming to all of you, but nothing happened I didn't want.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a significant look. Then Ron sighed rather heavily. As if disgruntled.

“Look, my best mate means more to me than almost anyone. I'd appreciate it if you not hurt him.”

“Hurt him how?” Draco asked in confusion.

Rather than answer, Ron looked away and shrugged.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Boys! Honestly...”

Still confused, Draco pulled out his wand and cast a spell on his door so that it would open. Then he cast an Accio before closing the door again. “Listen, since Potter left before I could give this to him, would you see that he gets it on Christmas?”

Hermione took the package he held out and gave him a small smile. “You got Harry a present?”

“Why wouldn't I? We're roommates,” Draco stated as if this was so obvious that they'd have to be idiots for not realizing it themselves.

Ron growled in frustration and no small amount of aggravation. “See?! That's exactly what I'm talking about!  _ No wonder _ Harry's confused! First you go do whatever it is you did at that party, making Harry so upset that he looked ready to murder everyone in his path, and then you go and give him a Christmas present! Make up your mind! Are you with him or not?!”

Draco felt all the blood drain out of his face. “What...? But! We're not... He has a girlfriend! And I'm fairly certain that he's secretly in love with someone else. He doesn't want me beyond a little bit of playing around...” Draco murmured that last bit quietly, looking away in an attempt to hide how he felt about that.

Both Ron and Hermione frowned at that.

“Harry doesn't play around,” Ron explained.

“If he's doing anything at all with you, it means something to him,” Hermione added.

Draco felt like he couldn't breathe. He stood there gaping at them, unable to even speak. The thing that made him want to kick himself was that he actually  _ knew _ that Harry wasn't the type to play around, but he had assumed that's all it was anyway.

Hermione exchanged another glance with her boyfriend. It looked as if Draco might have real feelings for Harry after all. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, just think about it during the Holidays. When we all come back, hopefully you'll be able to talk to Harry and settle things once and for all.”

“Er... right...” Draco managed to murmur. He slowly wandered into his room, while Harry decided to wait off in a corner of the Common Room until everyone was gone. He wanted to be alone and whether it was in the Castle or in Grimmauld Place didn't matter. Even so, he'd need to wait for Draco to leave before he could use the floo.

 

***

 

Harry took a large swig of lager from the bottle Dudley had just handed him. He was still surprised that his cousin had invited him over for a small gathering. He also wasn't entirely sure why he had come. The entire day had been spent trying to find the perfect belated gift for Draco, and he was exhausted after finally settling on a silver pendant of a dragon with a nearly golden cat's eye for an eye. He planned to have Hermione help him layer it with protection spells before giving it to Draco, and was still brooding over the gorgeous Slytherin.

“Er, your name is Harry, right?” One of Dudley's friends asked. The entire group was comprised of people he had met in his training, aside from Harry. 

There was a surprisingly wide range of people in the group. Four looked like avid athletes. Two were women – one of which was Dudley's girlfriend Donna. One was almost as scrawny as a bloke could get and not be dead – a bit like Harry used to be. One was clearly a swot with a nearly encyclopedic knowledge, which reminded Harry of Hermione. And the last two were an obviously gay couple who were almost nauseatingly affectionate with each other – in front of everyone.

Harry forced a tiny smile as he answered the question, posed by one of the gay men. “Er, yeah. I'm Harry, Dudley's cousin.”

The bloke – a tall man with brunet hair, blue eyes, and a charming set of dimples gave Harry a smile in return, looking rather concerned. “Mind if I ask why you're looking so gloomy?”

Harry sighed. Dudley took a swig of his own lager and asked: “Does this have anything to do with your girl, or is it that other one?”

Harry tilted his head side to side to admit that Dudley was more or less right. He then ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It's nothing to do with Ginny. She's been great. I think Ron and Hermione explained to her that I need a little space, because she hasn't been ambushing me at every opportunity. As for the other... Well, he's... completely bloody fucking baffling!”

The two gay men pumped their fists and quietly hissed in triumph that Harry was at least partially playing for their team.

Dudley gave Harry a strange look. “He huh? Well, what's so baffling?”

“First of all, we have a _long_ history of disliking one another and not getting along,” Harry began, mentally compiling a list of things to talk about. “But we share a dorm this year, so we're making an effort, I suppose. I suffer terrible nightmares, and he shocked me by trying to comfort me. In my sleep, I snatch anyone who tries to wake me from my nightmares into my bed and cuddle them, so we've basically been sharing a bed all year so far. At first, I tried my best to ignore this fact, and him, but he's so bloody gorgeous that I could stare at him all day! At least until he hex – er _punched_ me in the nose!”

Harry sighed morosely, ran his hand through his hair again, and took another sip of lager. “He told me that he wants to play around, but I'm normally against that, so I resisted until you basically told me I should give it a try, Dudley. So I have. Sort of. I thought things were going pretty well until the other day when he went to a party where his House mates tied him up and did kinky things to him until they carried him back to our room looking utterly wrecked. Now I don't know whether I want to murder everyone at that party for touching him, or nearly murder him again for being touched!” Harry ended in a rather possessive growl.

“W-w-w-wait!” The gay man who had asked the original question insisted as he held up his hands and waved them back and forth. “So you're saying that you've agreed to just play around with this bloke, and are now mad at him for just having fun?”

Dudley was frowning. “Yeah, Harry, even I have to admit that doesn't sound fair. If the two of you are just playing around, then you have no right to get mad at him.”

“But I can't help it!” Harry roared, flinging his hands out in frustration. “I want him all to myself!”

The other gay man sat on the arm of the chair Harry was sitting on and draped an arm over Harry's shoulder. He was shorter than Harry, looked younger than he really was, had bright golden yellow blond hair, and a muddy shade of green eyes. “I hate to break it to you, luv, but you're only 18. I presume he's the same age or close to it, thus, if he doesn't want to commit, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. You're young! This is the time in our lives when we're  _ supposed _ to play around and have fun. And I agree with your cousin, if you two haven't made any sort of promises to each other, then it's unfair of you to get mad at him for attending such a kinky party.”

“Out of curiosity, did he tell you he was going to such a party before he went?” The brunet man asked with a curious smile.

“Well, yeah...” Harry admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And did you _ask_ him not to go?” 

Harry sighed, slumping over just a little bit. “No... I told him to have fun because I was afraid that he'd get mad at me if I asked him not to go.”

“Why didn't you just go with him?” Dudley wondered in confusion.

“Because it was in Slytherin House,” Harry stated, and then shook his head because he knew that made no sense. “Look, it's like this, my private school is made up of four Houses. Each House is supposed to consider its members like family. My House – Gryffindor – is made up of brave and reckless idiots who like do do things like play practical jokes, break rules, and get into trouble. Ravenclaw is filled with swots who like to try to read every book ever written and have endless debates on them. Hufflepuffs like to work hard and help each other out. And then apparently cuddle as a group. 

“And then, lastly, there's the Slytherins. They are an ambitious lot, always looking out for themselves. They are a lot like young politicians, always plotting and scheming ways to get other people to do what they want. Anyway, students from one House aren't really allowed into the other Houses. The entrances are hidden and require passwords. Plus, Slytherin is in the dungeon while Gryffindor is located in one of the castle's towers. Actually, all of us who have gone back for an Eighth Year to make up for a horrible Seventh Year have been given our own Common Room and that's why Draco and I share a room despite being in rival Houses. Anyway, my point is that even if I had wanted to go to the party and on the slight chance that he would have wanted to invite me, his House mates would've turned me away.”

“Wait a minute,” Dudley interrupted his friends – who all looked fascinated and full of questions. “You're saying that your private school is in a _castle_?”

Harry nodded.

“Is it full of rich kids?” Dudley wondered.

“Well, the kids all come from different backgrounds. There's rich and poor and everything in between. Ron's from a big but poor family. Hermione's parents are both dentists, so I suppose they would be considered middle class. Draco's parents are from snobby old money,” Harry explained with a shrug. “He's a posh bloke who thinks I have no culture or manners.”

“Sounds like you've got it bad...” blond gay bloke muttered under his breath. He cleared his throat and spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Try to forgive Mr. Posh Bloke for what you probably think of as cheating on you, and just remember that you are still in school, for Christ's sake! There's plenty of time to get serious after you graduate.”

Dudley gave Harry a rather sly look. “And you should also probably tell your girlfriend that you'd rather be serious about your roommate. Otherwise, she might think that you expect her to wait for you.”

“She's not really my girlfriend,” Harry mumbled, then sighed. “But you're probably right. The last time I told her that I wasn't ready to go out with her again, she nearly shagged me before her brother interrupted us, so she might not have quite understood the message. She thinks that we should be friends with benefits – and how in Merlin's raunchy hole is that even a thing?! If two people want to shag, shouldn't they at least try dating?!”

Donna looked askance at Dudley. “Were your parents so old fashioned that they expected this sort of thing?”

Dudley shrugged. “I suppose. I'm not entirely sure it ever came up. They're together and faithful, so I guess it's just implied.” He looked at Harry. “I told you before, you shouldn't think of things in terms of marriage until you're older. Just have fun with what'shisname while you can, and if you still want to be serious about him when you graduate,  _ talk _ to him about it!”

“Marriage!” Both gay blokes blurted out in surprise. 

“You're not seriously ready for marriage right now?!” Brunet blurted out in alarm.

“Yeah, I actually am,” Harry stated with a shrug. “I'd do it right now if I could.”

Blond cutie chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair. “We could elope to Gretna Green and be married in just a few short hours.”

“Hey now, what about me?!” Brunet protested with a flirty pout.

“I think your boyfriend would murder me,” Harry declined with a laugh.

“He's not my boyfriend,” blondie informed Harry with a becoming grin. “We just play around a lot.”

“Well, you're not Draco,” Harry replied sadly. 

But the cute blond gay man who looked like he was maybe 16 – even though he was going on 20 – was not discouraged. “Tell this Draco of yours that we eloped in a fit of drunken passion. I'll give you my number, and we can chat on the phone and make him jealous. Maybe then you'll capture his interest and give him a reason to make your relationship something deeper than just playing around.”

Harry tried his best to discourage this line of thought, but as the group got drunker, they got more and more excited about this idea – mad as it was. Since they all went to the same training as Dudley, one of them had special paper in his bag that legal documents were normally printed on. It was a thicker, fancier paper than usual, and they were supposed to use it for all the homework in their one class on contracts and whatnot.

The swot had the brilliant idea of using this special paper to print up a completely fake certificate of marriage. They used a computer program to put official looking seals on it, and selected a fancy yet readable script. Donna and the brunet gay man signed as “witnesses,” and by this point, Harry basically gave in and decided to play along. Thus, they soon had an impressive looking document declaring Harry James Potter married to Ethan William Randall – whose name was almost bigger than the man himself! Harry shook his head and stuffed the certificate in his back pocket, intending to throw it out as soon as possible.

Ethan located his camera – which reminded Harry that he had a camera in his bag too. Harry's was a top of the line wizarding camera, but looked and acted just like a regular muggle one. Ethan insisted that their friends take pictures of them as they danced and kissed and basically had a good time. The rest of them – all thoroughly pissed by this point – took turns showing off for the camera, and by the time they were all ready to pass out, they had enough photographic evidence to convince anyone that they had just celebrated a wedding. The thought was strangely amusing to Harry, who appreciated that they were all just trying to cheer him up – in a strange and drunk way.

 

***

 

Despite passing out in a drunken pile, Harry did not wake up in one. At one point, he had woken from a nightmare with an extremely full bladder. After pulling free from his fake husband's arms, Harry went to the loo, had a long slash that provoked a groan of profound relief, and then took advantage of the fact that everyone else was still out cold to toss a pinch of floo powder from an urn on the mantle into Dudley's fireplace and return to Hogwarts. At which point, he crawled into his bed and passed out again.

When he woke up – alone in his bed – it was to Ron and Hermione gently shaking him awake. Harry could barely focus on them, so he couldn't see Draco in the background, but he could hear him reorganizing his belongings.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione greeted with a tiny smile of amusement. “We just arrived, and since you weren't on the train, we thought we'd see if you came back early.”

“Looks like you got pissed and passed out,” Ron pointed out with a grin.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I think I did.”

“What do you remember?” Hermione asked as she felt his forehead to make sure that he wasn't just sick.

“Went to Dudley's – like I said I was going to,” Harry murmured. Then he closed his eyes as he thought over what he could remember. “Started drinking, talked about Draco and Ginny, married Ethan, partied, passed out. That's about it...”

“Married Ethan?!” Ron blurted out in astonishment and Draco dropped something that shattered on the floor.

“Who's Ethan?” Hermione asked, smirking because she was dead certain that Harry was just having them on.

Harry patted his back pockets until he located the elaborately faked document. When he had it in his hand, he held it to his face and adjusted how far or close it needed to be a few times so that he could read it. “Ethan William Randall. He's just some bloke my cousin is in training with. Wait. I'll show you. Accio bag!”

As Harry's bag flew into his waiting hands, he absently gave the paper to Hermione. Then he rummaged around in it until he had his camera, which he squinted at the viewscreen until Hermione sighed impatiently and shoved his glasses on his face. Then Harry scrolled through the various pictures until he found one of Ethan sitting on his lap and grinning at the camera.

“Here he is. See?” Harry asked as he held out the camera to his friends.

“Is he even _old_ enough to get married?” Ron asked, still thoroughly shocked that his best friend would just elope with a stranger.

“Yes. I think. What does that matter?” Harry asked in confusion, scratching his head.

“It matters – you arse,” Draco drawled snidely from where he now stood behind Ron looking at the camera. “Because you can't just go around marrying underage muggles!” He cast a dark glare at Harry and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ones you know _nothing_ about at that!”

Harry winced and rubbed his temples. “Wait, I feel like there's a misunderstanding...”

“What's to misunderstand?” Draco growled in a tone of challenge. “You got drunk and married a complete stranger!”

Harry rubbed his head some more. “No really, I'm certain there's a misunderstanding...”

“Oh for the love of – here!” Hermione grumbled just before she cast a spell to ease the headache Harry obviously had from being hungover.

Harry sighed in relief, nearly slumping back onto his pillow to take a nap. He yawned and stretched out on his bed. “Now I remember!” Before he could say anything more, the fire flared to life.

“Oh, this is weird!” Dudley muttered as he looked around the room.

“Good morning, Big D,” Harry greeted him cheerfully.

“Morning,” Dudley returned, not so cheerfully. “I didn't think that would work – you've always, er, called me. Anyway, everyone was worried when we woke up and you were gone. I told them you'd just gone home because you weren't feeling well, but Ethan insisted that I call you as soon as possible and have you call him.”

“I have no idea how I would be able to do that,” Harry informed him. “Muggle things like telephones don't work here.”

Dudley shrugged. “So come back for five minutes and use my phone.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry felt a bit like an idiot now.

“Ethan also insisted that I invite you over every weekend from now on so that he can see you,” Dudley added.

“He sounds rather attached,” Harry murmured with a frown.

“Almost like a husband?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“What?” Harry asked in confusion, and then it hit him. “Oh!” He snickered a little. “It was all just a joke! It's not real.”

Ron was not the only one to sigh in relief.

Dudley tilted his head to the side and pointed back and forth between Hermione and Draco. “Is this your girl, er, Ginny, and that posh bloke you were talking about?”

Harry yawned again and slid to the side of his bed so that he could get up in a moment. “This is Hermione. And Ron – Ginny's brother. They're my best mates. And yes, this is Draco.”

“Huh. No wonder you said you could stare at him all day. I think I should probably tell Ethan to give up on you before he gets his hopes up too high. But I'm going to go now. This fire may not burn, but it's not exactly fun to have my head in either,” Dudley stated, looking at the fire rather nervously.

“I'll come over in a bit when I've had a shower and something to eat,” Harry promised.

Dudley waved dismissively. “Take your time. Now that we're not all passed out in a pile on the floor, I've got to clean up my flat. The good news is that Donna said that she'd come back to help me clean up after she took her surefire hangover remedy. So, if my bedroom door is closed, just make your call and go away.”

“Will do!” Harry stated with a grin. “Bye Dudley.”

“You're still calling Ginny your girl?” Ron asked curiously after Dudley was gone.

“No! I've explained it to Dudley a few times, but I'm not sure he understands,” Harry explained with a shrug like he was asking: _what can you do_?

“So... wait,” Draco demanded in a tone that was both uncertain _and_ expected to be obeyed. “You talked about me? And this marriage is a fake?” He held up the certificate he had taken from Hermione at some point.

“Completely,” Harry assured him. Then he looked away. “And I may or may not have mentioned you.”

Draco huffed a laugh, feeling better now and he wasn't even certain why he had been so upset. “Alright then, how did this fake marriage even come about?”

Harry dropped his forehead into his left hand – which had his elbow resting on his knee. “Er... well, as I said, I may or may not have mentioned you. And Ethan, er, seemed delighted that I was open to blokes as well as birds, and he suggested that...” Harry trailed off and squinted at the bed as he tried to remember exactly how it had happened, and then blushed and decided to lie just a tiny bit. “That I should pretend to marry him as a joke, and even though I said I wasn't interested, everyone thought it was a  _ brilliant _ idea. We may have all been completely pissed by that point. So, they set about creating this certificate, and at some point, I just sort of went along with them.”

Draco gave him one of his signature raised brow looks. “And what if it  _ had _ been real?”

“I probably would have fought it a bit harder,” Harry answered with a shrug.

Shaking his head in amusement now that he felt like he could breathe again, Draco crossed back over to his side of the room and cast a Repairo on the trinket he had dropped when Harry had first said that he had gotten married. Ron and Hermione both watched him suspiciously as Harry got up and stretched.

Ron decided to heckle Harry. “I can't  _ believe _ I missed my best mate's wedding! I wasn't the best man or anything! This really feels like an event I should have been invited to. You should have gone to the loo and sent me a Patronus of invitation. Mione and I could have Apparated into the nearest Alley and showed up as if by coincidence.”

Hermione snorted. “Then we'd  _ all _ be hungover right now!”

Draco chuckled softly at their antics and decided to play along. “Yeah, Potter, I wouldn't have minded an invitation too. It's been a while since I've gotten pissed out of my mind.”

Harry took a deep breath and decided to just blurt out the first thing that came to mind before he could think about it too much. “Oh trust me, Malfoy, if I have anything at all to do with it, you'll  _ definitely _ be at my next wedding.”

“Er...” Before Draco could decide if that had any hidden subtext – or actually if it was as direct as it sounded – Ron laughed and dragged Harry into the bathroom. 

“Let's get you cleaned up so that we can go get something to eat. I don't trust that you are awake and sober enough to do it yourself!”

Hermione wandered into the bathroom after them, saying: “So, this Ethan fellow looks rather adorable. Tell me, was he a good kisser?” As she shut the door.

Draco was profoundly grateful that the closing of the door prevented him from hearing all the dirty details. If he had to hear them, he was half certain that he'd break in and murder Harry! As it was, he paced the room rather than unpack like he had planned. The thought that Harry could have been pressured into  _ actually _ getting married drilled itself into Draco's mind and refused to leave.

One thing was clear: no matter  _ what _ Ron and Hermione had said right before they left for Christmas holiday, he needed to remember that Harry was only playing with him and that there was no future for them. How  _ could _ there be?

 

***

 

Life more or less went back to normal for Harry and Draco. Without ever discussing it, they slept together at night, elated to realize that neither had more than the occasional nightmare when they simply went to bed together. Thus they were getting better quality sleep than ever, which in turn helped get their homework done quickly so that they'd have time to snuggle up for a bit at bed time.

The only down side – in Draco's opinion – was that he was atrociously letting his nightly skin and hair care routine slide. It wasn't apparent to anyone else, but he could see the difference when he looked in the mirror. But when it came down to a choice between his skin and snuggling with Harry, Draco was surprised to discover that Harry won without his mind even trying to come up with arguments.

One night, a week before the end of school, Draco was practically channeling Hermione in his obsession with studying for their NEWTs. He was suddenly  _ convinced _ that he was going to fail everything and never be able to show his face in wizarding public again!

Harry, on the other hand, was surprisingly calm. He had never been a stellar student, and so he had low expectations. Plus, he had done better in this year than all his previous years combined. Thus, he was fairly confident that he would pass everything just fine.

Until it rather abruptly hit him that he only had  _ days _ left with Draco. Days! This made Harry start to panic in a way he couldn't remember doing before – not even when he realized that he had to  _ die _ in order to defeat Voldemort.

Harry pulled off his glasses and set them aside so that he could rub his eyes. When he was done and could see again, he looked over to find Draco looking like he was about one second away from pulling on his delicate and silky hair. Shaking his head, Harry walked over to Draco, forced the Slytherin's chair to turn away from his desk, and then kissed him so possessively that it stole both their breaths away.

Draco groaned, torn between continuing the wonderful kiss and pushing Harry away. He pulled back rather reluctantly. “ _ Potter _ ... I need to study!” He whinged, wishing that he had a  _ lot _ more time before their NEWTs.

Harry smiled at him patiently. “I know. We will. I just think we should take a small break.

Draco sighed as he thought this over. “Alright. A  _ very _ small break.”

Nodding in agreement, Harry led Draco to Draco's bed – which they were right next to. Since Draco wanted it quick, Harry used spells to make their clothes intangible just long enough to be banished to the floor. After that, they tumbled onto the bed, kissing and caressing every part of each other's bodies.

Harry mentally smirked. For someone who insisted on a very small break, Draco sure didn't seem to be in any sort of rush. To be honest, neither was Harry. He was pretty sure that they had studied as much as they possibly could at this point, and simply needed to get a good night's sleep.

As Harry swirled his tongue around Draco's left nipple, Draco whimpered and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair. “Please...” he begged so softly that Harry almost didn't hear it. He had no real idea what Draco wanted, but he smiled anyway.

“Alright,” he murmured, waving his hand in circles around his bottom to cast spells to clean himself out, soften him up, and fill him with oil. Once that was done, Harry shifted to straddle Draco and –

“Whoa whoa wait!” Draco blurted out in alarm, holding onto Harry's hips so tightly that there'd probably be bruises.

“What's wrong?” Harry asked with a frown. He was holding Draco's shaft steady so that he could lower himself onto it.

“You... _We_ haven't shagged before,” Draco pointed out. “We use our hands and our mouths on each other. Not this!”

“You don't want to?” Harry questioned in disappointment.

“Of course I do!” Draco roared emphatically. “Just... you don't...”

“What?” Harry wondered with a slight frown of confusion.

“You don't play around like _this_ ,” Draco half whispered, now afraid that Harry would change his mind and put a stop to things.

Harry smiled faintly. “Well no, not usually. But I want to.”

Draco took a deep breath. “If... If you're  _ sure _ ...”

Harry nodded and leaned forward to kiss him again. “I'm sure.”

“Alright,” Draco replied, speaking in a near whisper again. He was suddenly so nervous that he was glad that Harry was doing everything because he was certain he had just completely forgotten how.

Harry slowly lowered himself onto Draco, shifting and pausing to adjust as necessary. When he realized that Draco was as deep inside him as possible, Harry closed his eyes and simply savored the feeling for a long moment. Draco had been holding his breath and now moaned as he exhaled. Harry wiggled and raised himself just a little bit before sinking back down.

“Can I...” Draco stuttered at how good it felt, and Harry wasn't even really doing anything yet. “Can I roll us over?”

Harry nodded in agreement since he had no real idea what he was doing. He was sure he'd figure it out quickly, but for his first time bottoming – or being with a bloke, or being with  _ anyone _ other than Ginny for that matter – he actually would prefer to surrender himself to Draco and trust that the Slytherin would make it good for him.

Encouraged, Draco decided that the easiest way to get Harry under him was to curl forward and hold Harry close until Harry was on his back with his legs wrapped around Draco's waist. This had the bonus of not separating them. Draco then rested his head on Harry's chest a moment.

“You feel so good!” Draco praised sincerely.

Harry blushed lightly. “You feel good inside me.”

Draco sucked on Harry's neck as a distraction so that he didn't overthink the fact that he was buried balls deep inside Harry and already on the verge of pumping him full. He withdrew slowly and made sure that there was enough space between them for one of his hands to stroke Harry's shaft.

Harry gasped and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck. “Oh God! So good!”

Draco was now slowly sliding back into Harry, wishing he could remember the orgasm denial spell so that he would last more than five seconds. He had a firm grip on Harry's shaft, wondering if he should stop completely and wank Harry off before losing all control over his stamina. Suddenly, Harry sounded choked, clinging to Draco as tightly as possible and pressing their lips together in a frantic kiss. The feeling of Harry rippling on Draco's shaft while squirting out thick white stripes was more than enough to push Draco over the edge. He pumped Harry full, and then sighed in disappointment as he rested his head on Harry's chest again.

Even though he had  _ said _ he wanted a very short break, the moment Harry had offered actual shagging, Draco wanted nothing more than to last all night and do everything he could think of with Harry until they passed out in a thoroughly sated pile. Instead, that had been shamefully quick.

Harry kissed Draco wherever he could and stroked a hand up and down his svelte spine. “Hey... I know this may sound impossible, but do you think we could go again in a few minutes?”

This made Draco happier than he cared to admit. He lifted his head to kiss Harry. “I'd like that.”

Smiling, Harry focused on kissing Draco until they were both obviously ready for more. After that, they both quite forgot that they had a very good reason to get some quality sleep. Instead, it was a little after midnight before they finally wore each other out and zonked.

 

***

 

On the last day,  _ everyone _ was rushing around at the last minute, getting ready to leave their beloved school. Draco was one of the few that had finished his packing the night before. He wasn't planning to take the Hogwarts Express home, so it didn't matter when he finished his packing, even so, he was glad to be done with it. His parents had decided that they were going to meet him at their villa on the French Riviera, which meant that one of the many Hogwarts House Elves would deliver his trunk to his villa within an hour of his departure. The Floo would take him to the nearest international Portkey office, and then he'd be with his parents shortly thereafter.

As for Harry, he was planning to Floo directly to his house and have Kreacher bring his trunk at some point. Most of the Eighth Years were planning to take advantage of the fireplaces in their rooms. Hermione was going to Floo to Harry's and Apparate to her parents' from there.

Feeling as ready as he was going to get, Draco squared his shoulders and marched across the room to where Harry was sorting through his trunk and tossing rubbish in the bin. “Well, Potter... It's been better than expected having you as my roommate this year.”

Harry smiled at Draco, feeling both happy and sad. “Yes. It has. I didn't think we'd both survive until the end of the year.”

Draco chuckled and nodded in agreement. He then pulled Harry into a hug and gave him a demanding kiss. They lost all track of time and stood there kissing for many long minutes before Draco pulled back and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Er, well, I suppose this is goodbye.”

“I suppose it is,” Harry agreed with a small smile.

“Maybe I'll see you around sometime,” Draco murmured, knowing that he probably wouldn't be back in England for a few months, and then probably wouldn't leave his Manor very often. The chances of running into Harry were likely to be very slim.

“Maybe,” Harry parroted with a shrug. He dared to give Draco one last insistent kiss. “Goodbye... Draco...”

“Bye Harry,” Draco whispered before pressing his lips together, turning, and practically fleeing through the fireplace.

Harry stared at the fire for a long time.  _ So much for Gryffindor bravery, _ he thought in self-derision. He could only pray that he wouldn't regret not begging Draco to be his boyfriend for the rest of his life.

Ron and Hermione entered his room a moment later. “You ready?”

Harry shrugged, looked at his trunk, and then cast a spell to toss all his belongings into it. “I am now.”

Kreacher popped into the room. “Now that Master has officially  _ hired _ Winky,” he sneered the word hired as if it was the dirtiest word in the world. “We will make sure that all of your trunks are delivered very promptly, Masters, Mistress.”

“Then I guess it's time to go,” Harry murmured sadly.

Sensing his melancholy, Hermione slipped her hand in his. “Come on. We have the whole world to explore now that we're done with school.”

Harry smiled at her. “That we do.”

Without another word, the three of them grabbed some floo powder, and then went home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that I said this is only the first of two parts, so even though this part ends a bit melancholic, the endgame of the next part is still Drarry :-)

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think so far? Comments are love - please and thank you :-)


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